


The Demon in the Staff

by Alexander_Wesker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor was in Hell for a reason(Hazbin Hotel), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Dark Harry Potter, Gen, Good but Misguided Albus Dumbledore, Harry Gets a Guardian....Demon, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, No Bashing, Nobody ever told Harry to never make a deal with a demon, Pre-Canon, Protective Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Scar Horcrux reacts to Alastor presence, but now he is trapped in his microphone staff like a genie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 42
Words: 61,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26679892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexander_Wesker/pseuds/Alexander_Wesker
Summary: Alastor had fucked up…badly, and now was trapped inside his own mic staff, luckily his entrapment doesn’t last long, unluckily the one who ‘frees’ him is a child.At least the child is a wizard, maybe he could still get some… fun out of this situation.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 663
Kudos: 683





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I came up with this story in a dream, for now it is an One-shot but if you guys want I could make it a multi-chapter story.

I t was a normal afternoon in Privet Drive, or as normal as it could.

A child, a little thing, small and thin with clothes a tad to big for them walked down the road. He, for the child was a boy, walked slowly and quietly as if he was trying to not be seen.

Harry, which was the boy’s name, had walked a long, long way from school to his relatives’ house, since they had forgot to pick him up with Dudley. Harry was tired but continued walking, then as he was making his way across the entrance on an alleyway, he stopped.

A low static, as of an old TV or maybe a radio, came from the alley. Harry turned his head a bit, facing the alleyway, nested in the growing shadows of the walls, there was  _something_ , which glowed of a bright red.

While Harry knew that he should go to his relatives’ house, and fast since he was already late, he went into the alley, curious of what the glow y red thing was, and why it was producing that static sound.

As Harry got closer, the static grew stronger, less stuttering and more flowing.

Harry got closer still until he could see what the thing was, propped against a wall there was a lucid black staff-like stick with an old fashioned microphone, as those he had seen in the old time y movies his Uncle watched from time to time, on top. The microphone was dark red, with a strange raised sphere of an even darker red in its center.

The static was coming from the microphone… but that  _wasn’t possible, it wasn’t connected to anything!_

Despite everything his Aunt taught him– _well she taught them to Dudley but he listened too!_ – about not touching things that were of others, and that microphone staff was clearly well cared for if it’s shine was anything to go by, Harry couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his hands around the staff and moving it from were it was propped, as soon as he did that a painful electric-like shock coursed from his hands to his arms. 

Harry let the microphone staff go, and his eyes widened.

The staff remained straight up, without even touching the ground from it’s end. The dark, dark red sphere in the center of the microphone opened, like an eye would, glowing brighter and brighter, red smoke started coming out of it.

Harry was paralyzed in fear, and in a slight awe, it was scary but at the same time it seemed like… something he would have read from his cousin’s fable books.

The smoke flowed around like a snake tightening its coils around the air by the side of the staff. The smoke coils tightened and tightened until it looked almost solid.

A hand, with red pointed claws moved from the smoke grasping the staff, and with a flick of its wrist the smoke was gone. In its place stood a tall, tall man-?– dressed in various shades of red. 

Harry didn’t move his eyes higher than the man’s dark red bow-tie.

“Well, well, well what do we have here?” the man asked, his voice slightly static-y as if it was coming out of an old radio. “It was you that touched my microphone?” 

Harry nodded, scared and yet… not. His scar, the one that his aunt said it was caused by the accident that killed his parent, was… _strangely warm_ right now. And its pleasant, if strange, warmth was calming him down.

“Well, then, I have to thank you!” the man said enthusiastic as Harry never heard an adult sound. “You did free me, if somewhat, from my… _quite unpleasant predicament._ ” the static grew stronger for a moment as the man said those words, fading out soon after.

For an instant, Harry could only think of the genie from Aladdin trapped inside a lamp, was this… _like that_?  
Still Harry politely answer that the man thanks.

“What a polite, young boy!”the man said, and though his words didn’t sound that much as a compliment, Harry smiled softly at the praise, his relatives never praised him for his manners, or anything really. “But really you don’t need to call me ‘sir’, after all you are my savior! Please call me, Alastor” he said, his voice lowered slightly the static growing a little, then he extended his free clawed hand “May I have your name, now that you know mine?”

Harry took his hand, as he had seen his Uncle do with his work associates. “Harry Potter, Mr. Alastor” 

His scar warmed and warmed, Harry raised his eyes meeting the red gaze of Mr. Alastor, a flash of green– _like the one he saw in his nightmares_ – shined from nowhere, he let Mr. Alastor's hand go.

The man smiled with razor sharp teeth. “I will protect you, as you ask”

Harry looked confused at the man, he…  _hadn’t asked a thing_ , hadn’t he? But maybe, the man –  _or was he a genie? Did it mean that_ Magic _was real?_ –  _could read his thoughts? Even those he hid deep down because he was scared of what could have happened if he voiced them?_

“Thank you, Mr. Alastor”

“No need to thank me, Harry.” Then with a small movement of his hand his microphone staff turned into a medallion, medium in size, with his dark red microphone and bright red eye carved on it. The medallion had a leather cord wrapped on top. “I will be with you here” Mr. Alastor said tapping the medallion with a sharp claw “Anytime you need me, just _say my name_.”

Harry nodded, and Mr. Alastor, smiling wide and sharp, his red eyes glowing, gave him the medallion, Harry put it around his neck, hiding it under his big shirt. Then in a cloud of red twirling smoke, Mr. Alastor returned into the staff turned medallion.

With his scar warm, and touching the medallion from the shirt every once in a while, as if to be certain that it was real, Harry returned to his relatives’ house, smiling.


	2. This is part of the deal too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Alastor really cares about him, or at least that's what Harry thinks.

Even if his relatives had yelled at him when he got back, Harry didn’t get as scared of them as usual. The slightly hot metal of the medallion against his skin as a reminder of the fact that if is relatives even moved a hand against him, he had just to say ‘ _Alastor_ ’ and they would’ve been stopped.

As always he didn’t say anything, keeping his eyes low, normally he would’ve been doing so to hide his tears, this time he did it to hide the slight happiness that he was feeling in knowing that he had someone who would have protected him. His relatives sent him to his cupboard and then locked the little door, Harry didn’t care, even if he hoped that they would have given him at least a little scrap of bread, he was tired and hungry, but his relatives, as always, didn’t care. The medallion grew a little bit hotter.

Harry took it out from under his shirt, the eye on the microphone was glowing faintly like an ember under the ashes in a fireplace. Slowly the glow faded away. And as night came, Harry went to sleep, covering himself with his tattered old blanket, curling up on his side, and keeping the medallion tightly between his hands as he slowly fell asleep.

Unknown to the sleeping child a shadow oozed out of the medallion and between his fingers, it looked almost as the demon know as Alastor looked like, but with a wide smile with sewn shut lips, and eyes looking like black holes oozing bloody neon, the shadow slithered under the little locked door, unlocking it with just a tap of its clawed fingers, before slithering farther away, mapping the house for its master, searching ever nook and cranny and every corner and hanger until it knew every place, and every little space in which its master’s preys could hide after the hunt had started.

Then the shadow slithered back to the kitchen, checking drawers and cabinets for something to pick for his master’s plaything to eat, that the preys wouldn’t notice if it was missing. Then it found some snack bars with dried berries that had been shoved in the back of a cabinet and forgotten, after assuring itself that they were still edible, for its master would have got angry if it had hurt its master’s plaything.

The shadow then slithered back to the cupboard, opening the door to bring the snack bars in, then closing it and locking it back up so that the preys wouldn’t notice the difference.

It left the snack bars near its master’s plaything and then got back inside the medallion.

Harry woke up some minutes after when the medallion got uncomfortably hot again, he let the metal disk go, putting his hands on the mattress only to bring the left up immediately when he touched something cold and smooth that wasn’t there before. Tasting the wall, he found the light switch for the broken light bulb of his cupboard, that lit up only if it was him who flipped the switch, and looked at what he had touched. Near him there were three snack bars still in their silvery wrappers.  
Harry hid two of them under his cot and then almost reverently opened the one left, he had never had a sweet before, never so he wanted to savor the moment, but first.  
He took the medallion in his hands and whispered a ‘ _thank you_ ’ to it. Knowing that the only one who could have got him something was Mr. Alastor.

Then Harry returned to the snack bar, eating it slowly and savoring every bite of the snack. It even calmed is hunger if just a bit.

With his stomach a bit fuller then before Harry went back to sleep.

* * *

  
“Boy! Wake up!”

Harry woke up with a jolt, hiding the silver wrapper under his blanket and the medallion under his shirt. His aunt, the one who had yelled, unlocked the door of his cupboard some moments after that.

Harry exited his ‘room’ and after a sharp nod of his aunt went to the kitchen to cook breakfast for his relatives, he droned off, mechanically preparing everything.

After breakfast he cleaned the dishes, once again his relatives hadn’t left anything for him, and then he was sent into the garden to take care of it.

While he was doing that the medallion warmed up at seemingly random intervals. _Maybe Mr. Alastor was getting bored inside his medallion?_ Harry could understand that, he sometimes got bored too when he had to stay for a lot of time in his cupboard, and he didn’t think that inside the medallion was much bigger than his cupboard.

After having looked around and assured that his relatives weren’t looking and weren’t going to notice, Harry stopped weeding the petunias for a moment and brought the medallion near his face. “Alastor” he muttered.

  
Red smoke flowed out of the medallion solidifying in the form of Mr. Alastor, without his microphone staff in his hands.

Mr. Alastor looked around as if searching the reason of his call, when he didn’t found any he looked at Harry. “You don’t seem in danger.” the man said, his smile still on his lips even if he looked somewhat confused.

“I am not… I just thought you could be getting bored, Mr. Alastor.” Harry answered, pointedly looking at Mr. Alastor’s bow-tie and not his eyes. “I know I get bored when my relatives lock me up in my cupboard… so I thought...-”

Harry stopped talking when he heard a low, static-y laugh, accompanied by an equally low laugh track as those used in TV shows.

“You are an interesting creature, Harry,” Mr. Alastor said, a little pause in which the tall man looked at the Dursley from the little window in the kitchen door. “Why are you out here? And not with your dreadfully dull relatives?”

“I’m taking care of the garden, as I always do in the Weekends and Holidays, Mr. Alastor” Harry answered truthfully, restarting weeding the petunias. 

Mr. Alastor seemed to scoff at the idea. Appearing as if bored by even the simple idea of staying hours on end out in the sun taking care of plants, then his expression somewhat softened, but just for a moment, a flash of an instant. His smile was back as wide and sharp as always, or what Harry could think as always, Mr. Alastor was always smiling since he had meet him.

“I guess somebody has to take care of it, though why isn’t your aunt doing it? From what I recall, from modern age at least, children shouldn’t be allowed alone with sharp utensils and dangerous chemicals.”

Harry shrugged. “I’ve been taking care of the garden since I was four, Mr. Alastor. Plus if I don’t do a good job it’s no lunch for me… and I only eat at lunch”

Mr. Alastor hissed something under his breath and static. A hint of disgust in his features, but directed towards what Harry didn’t know, he hoped it wasn’t at him.

“That’s not very polite for you to say, Mr. Alastor” Harry chirped, finally extirpating the last weed from the petunias bed. 

“You… understood what I was saying?” 

Harry looked back at the tall man in red. “Yes… I shouldn’t… have?” he asked fearfully, he didn’t want Mr. Alastor to abandon him because he was too strange and freaky for him.

“I suppose you could, it’s a rare gift, which makes you even more interesting in my eyes.”

Mr. Alastor smile widened showing more sharp teeth than it was… _normal_. 

Then Aunt Petunia voice broke the moment, she yelled at Harry to come back inside and clean some mess.

But Harry didn’t listen what the mess was because his attention went back to Mr. Alastor, that heard the voice of his aunt had snapped his head so quick and so much that his neck was twisted in an unnatural way, it should have been broken, still his chest was raising with his breaths as if nothing was wrong, as if he hadn’t just turned his head so much that he was looking back with his body facing the total opposite way.

“ _I hate liars_ ” the man growled under the static, his voice sounding deeper and more distorted. Then his head snapped back, now facing the right way, he was still smiling. “Tell me Harry, would you be opposed if I messed a bit with your relatives? So you can continue with your monotonous tasks and I can stay out of that boring medallion? I promise that they will not see me.”  


“You can, Mr. Alastor. Just don’t hurt them too much… or they’ll probably blame me”  


“You can stay assured, Harry. I will not let any harm come to you. And we will have our... _fun_.”

Mr. Alastor turned to look at aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon, his smile looked slightly scarier than before, with a snap of his clawed fingers he melted in the shadows.

And Harry, Harry went back inside, the medallion now cold against his skin.


	3. The Old Radio, Mama gave me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Petunia makes a 'deal' with Alastor, but she doesn't know that this is just the beginning of what the demon has planned for her.

Petunia Dursley had been a really happy married woman, with a normal family and a normal life, and a normal house in a normal neighborhood. She had been happy and normal, until her nephew came.

A little baby, that wasn’t normal at all, son of her _witch_ sister, she had hated him from the first moment in which her eyes had laid upon his little baby face.

Still he was her nephew and it was asked, in a letter left with the infant, that she took care of him, and she did. Well she did the barest minimum for the boy, but it wasn’t her fault, it was the only way she had to discourage any strange or weird or freakish behaviors from the boy.

Which it came to what it was happening now, she sent Harry to clean her little Duddikins’ room, as she went to her, and her husband, bedroom. On a dresser put against the wall that was to her right as she entered the door, there was an unplugged radio, one of those old radios from the Twenties with shiny wooden casing and hard plastic dials, it had been a gift her mother gave her at her wedding.

An heirloom of sorts, it should have been given to Lily, since she had married first, but electric things didn’t work in… _magical_ environments so it was her, Petunia, that got stuck with the old radio.

She had put it on the dresser when they brought the house with Vernon as a decor, and then basically forgot about it, until… now.

There was a slight static-y sound coming from the radio, she went to see if the stupid boy had plugged it, but… it wasn’t, the cord still neatly coiled behind the radio.

_What… How could this be happening?_  
  
At first the woman thought that it was her nephew’s _magic_ fault, but the boy wasn’t near enough for it to be his fault. So _what_ …

  
The dials on the radio started turning, slowly, the static growing. Then they snapped back in their previous position and the static… _stopped_.

Petunia looked at the radio, shocked. And then, decided to hide the thing in the closet, in a box with other unwanted things that her mother left her, done that she returned downstairs, where her husband and son were deciding to forget everything about the event.

After all it was probably just her nephew’s _magic_ anyways, as much as she hated it.

Eventually as the day passed she really forgot of what had happened though a form of unease mad her nervous throughout the day.

Night came, and she and her husband retired for the night, they were about to fall asleep when a burst of static came from nowhere. Both her and Vernon jolted from the bed, searching for the source of the sound, finding it almost immediately, the old radio was back in its usual place, a faint reddish tint behind the metallic grid on its facade.

“Did you plug in the radio, Tuney? I thought you didn’t like the thing” Vernon asked her

“I.. It’s not plugged in, Vernon” she answered, as the dials stated turning at they had done in the morning.

The static grew, the sound almost like the snapping of dried twigs more than the usual droning white sound of static, the more the dials turned the louder the static got. The shadow of the radio appeared to grow just as much under the faint moonlight.

Petunia reached for the radio to… _she wasn’t sure_ , turn it off maybe…? But a shadowy clawed hand dripping of… ink? Darkness? Caught her wrist before she could touch the radio.

The woman screamed trying to free her wrist but the shadow’s grip was unyielding, Vernon came in her support, but even he got caught in slimy, shadowy appendages.

The static grew and grew, just as much as the two panic did, then… a laugh, inhuman, loud a shrieking as nail on a board broke through the static.

The shadow of the radio got more human-like and a smile, bloody and too bright, appeared on its would-be face.

“Lady and Gentleman, I hope you enjoy the show...”a static-y voice followed the laugh, as the shadow grew more and more solid. “For I’m _never_ gonna leave.” the tone of the voice got distorted and distorted, unnaturally deep and grave.

Then the shadow lunged at her, Petunia screamed and… _woke up_. Looking panicked towards the dresser, there was no radio there, no creepy shadow, there was silence not a hint of static.

_It had been only a nightmare._

She told herself, just a _nightmare_.

“I wouldn’t be so sure, _darling_.”

  
Petunia’s head turned fast towards the voice, there was an inhumanly tall shadow of a man… with antlers on his head, looking at her from the side, the man, creature… _demon_ smiled at her fear, his sharp teeth almost glinting under the clear moonlight shine.

Petunia screamed, calling Vernon to help her.

  
“He will not help you. In fact he is not even going to _wake_.” the demon said, his voice filled with cruel mirth.

“W-what did you do to him?” She asked fearfully, trying to back away from the demon which laughed at her question.

“Nothing.” the demon answered as his laugh faded, then his smile grew. “ _Yet_.” as he said those last words the demon faded away, no… he didn’t fade, he melted, leaving a bloodied smear on the window panes, his antlers drawn in the blood with wide strokes.

Petunia couldn’t go back to sleep that night.

Instead she  got up , glancing at Vernon who was, seemingly, still sleeping soundly and went downstairs, jumping and almost screaming every time a shadow appeared just too…  _long_ , or too human  looking . She took a rag and filled a bucket with water and soap to go clean the bloody smear, but when the rag touched it, it fizzled and she let the rag go with a yelp, the rag melted… or maybe it got absorbed by the stain. She wasn’t sure.

“How _cute_ of you to try and clean it yourself.”

Petunia turned towards the voice but there was no demon this time, there was…  _nothing_ .

“I thought you were going to wake up your nephew. You do seem to like to use him as your _slave_.”

She turned again to her right, but again there was nothing there.

“You took revenge for everything you didn’t got on him. _How boring_!” 

She turned again, this time to her left, and caught a glimpse of deep red with the corner of her eye.

“You humans always want revenge, or money, or fame or all three... _It’s so predictable!_ Would it _kill_ you to be interesting at least once?”

“What do you want from me?” She asked, her voice trembling.

“What do I want? Your husband’s… no, your _son’s soul_ ” the demon answered laughing “He is already destined to Hell anyways, did you forget that Gluttony is one of the Deadly Sins? Your son has it in spades along with Wrath and Pride. Honestly giving his soul to me as a payment, is more merciful that what will happen to him when he finally ends up in Hell.”

“No! I will not give him to you!” 

“Hm, then, what about… _your nephew's_ then?” the demon said, appearing in front of her, he was as tall as his shadow had been, dressed in a red suit, with a dark red bow-tie, his face pale gray, with a wide smile of sharp teeth as its most noticeable feature, and up two glowing red eyes with reptile like pupils and dark red sclera. “He is not a sinner, yet, so know that if you sell his soul to me. It is you that damn him to Hell.”

“You can take him.” she responded no hesitance in her voice.

The demon laughed, his voice deep under the ever-present static. “You humans,  _disgust_ me. Condemning a pure soul to protect your rotten family… I will love to meet you when you and your family get in Hell. Hopefully you’ll get there together, I’ll prepare you _the welcome party of a lifetime!_ ” He laughed again, then gripped her wrist, so tightly that his pointed claws cut her skin without any difficulty, she yelped and tried to break the demon’s grip failing, then he left her go. Two little antlers appeared on her wrist, like a mark.

“When you look at this, always remember that you condemned your nephew to an eternity in Hell with… _me_.”

The demon disappeared melting in the shadows. And as Petunia looked down at the reddish antlers on her wrist, regret started to  grew in her, corrosive as acid. 

_ Had she truly become so bitter in her hatred for her sister?  _

_ Had she really just sold her nephew soul…? The same nephew she had… actually treated as nothing more then a lowly slave… and for what? Because he was magic? _

_ But… magic, witchcraft… it was a  _ sin _ too wasn’t it? He wasn’t...he… _

  
Petunia Dursley stood there in front of the window, still stained with blood, looking at her wrist. 

Not noticing that the radio was back on the dresser or the smiling demon near it that laughed silently at her suffering.

‘ _This is but the beginning, darling~’_


	4. The Man in Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or the Chapter in which Alastor got bored of hiding after tormenting Petunia for a week, and decided to 'ruin' the Dursleys' breakfast.

Since the day that Mr. Alastor left his medallion for an entire day, Harry noticed that his Aunt was treating him, a bit better, not by much, but at least he didn’t have to do all the chores in the house anymore.

Which was a good thing, since it gave him more time to pass with Mr. Alastor that now preferred to stay more out of the medallion than in it, though he still had to stay out of sight from the other inhabitants of the house.

Mr. Alastor was telling him something, it was almost a funny story if one was to ignore all the murder-y bits, his words pronounced in that static hiss that Mr. Alastor used when he wanted to make Harry’s Aunt jump in freight. Then he stopped his retelling of the story as soon as he heard the heavy stomps that were Harry’s cousin and Uncle steps, melting in the shadows but only after smirking, as if he had something planned for the two of them.

Or maybe for all of them,  excluding Harry, since Mr. Alastor was strange like that.

The Dursley got into the kitchen sitting around the kitchen table, still sleepy, bar for Aunt Petunia who looked really awake and tired at the same time, but she had been looking like that for a week now.

Harry started droning off, mechanically preparing his relatives’ breakfast, when he heard something a soft sound slightly ticking, like the sound that the hard heels of a pair of dress shoes would do on a tiled floor. He recognized the sound as steps, someone was… walking in the kitchen?  
His relatives too seemed to have heard the sound, Uncle and Dudley were confused, while Aunt Petunia was… scared.

As soon as Harry saw the shadow of the person who entered the kitchen his worries quieted down, his scar warming a bit, it was Mr. Alastor, so all was well.

Then he realized that Mr. Alastor had just entered the kitchen, and that his relatives could see him.

His worries came back stronger than before.

“W-What… y-you? How… it’s… morning…” the stuttering voice of his Aunt brought Harry back to reality, the boy was confused why was his Aunt so scared? Mr. Alastor wasn’t scary, strange… maybe a bit creepy sometimes but he wasn’t scary.

“You thought sunlight would stop me? What did you take me for… a _vampire_?” Mr. Alastor asked incredulous, his voice as high and sing-song-y as always.

“What… are you?” the harsh sounding voice of Uncle Vernon broke the silence that had fallen in the kitchen.

Mr. Alastor scoffed at the question. “Something you  wouldn’t want to offend, Mr. Dursley. Luckily for you, I am quite in a high mood today, so I will not take offense of your tactless question!”

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth again, but Aunt Petunia shushed him before he said anything, Mr. Alastor’s smile grew in seeing that happen.

“What… why… are you here?” Aunt Petunia asked.

Mr. Alastor looked at her. “For the boy, what else would I be here for?”

“I’ll not let you take my son!” Uncle Vernon shouted, his face growing red with anger.

Mr. Alastor moved his gaze on him, looking down at him with disdain. “Sit down. I don’t want the little whale, I’m talking about the boy making your breakfast, your nephew.”

“And what do you want from him?”

“For now, nothing. Just checking.” Then finally Mr. Alastor turned to him, giving him a fast, almost not-there nod with his head. “How are you doing, Harry?” he asked pleasantly.

“Just fine, Mr. Alastor” he answered smiling at the man, as Mr. Alastor always said to him ‘One is never fully dressed without a smile’ and Harry didn’t like the idea of not ‘being proper’ so he accepted gladly, Mr. Alastor’s suggestions. “Would you like to join us for breakfast?”  
  


“I’d love to!” the man answered enthusiastic as always “Well, if your relatives don’t have anything against it obviously” he added, but it was clear that he wasn’t going to accept a ‘no’, nobody at the table spoke up, so with a flick of his wrist Mr. Alastor created two new seats at the table, one that was almost throne-like and another one simpler and smaller near it.

  
Uncle Vernon turned even more red in anger at that blatant show of magic, but kept quiet and then paled as Aunt Petunia explained, in an impossible to hear whisper, something to him. The Dursley moved Dudley closer to them and stayed silent.

Harry remained blissfully unaware of the tension in the room as he turned to speak to Mr. Alastor.

“What would you like for breakfast, Mr. Alastor?”

The man smirked in the way he did when he was about to say something that could be serious or just a deadpanned joke. “The  _souls of the innocent_ , but in lack of that...  d o you know how to prepare _pain perdu_ , Harry?”

Harry giggled a bit at the joke, or at least he thought it was a joke Aunt Petunia had stiffened at his words, but after that bowed his head in embarrassment. “No, I don’t. Sorry, Mr. Alastor.”  
  
“No need to worry, dear! It’s quite simple really!” the man exclaimed, walking towards the kitchen, and then starting explaining him how to make some _pain perdu_. 

Not once Harry spared a glance towards his terrified relatives, while he prepared breakfast under the ever-looking presence of Mr. Alastor.

Instead smirking just as the man had done when he finally, for the first time in his life, got to sit at the table with them, by Mr. Alastor’s side, eating some of the mildly sweet but slightly cinnamon-y  _pain perdu_ that he had prepared, since Mr. Alastor had insisted. 

His relatives ate the breakfast he had made for them, that in comparison appeared almost…  _boring_ in Harry’s eyes. He was starting to think that Mr. Alastor was better in everything respect of his relatives.

_After all why be normal and_ boring _, when one could be himself, in all their quirks, and be_ respected _?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The only food I know from Lousiana is the pain perdu, which is a sort of french toast, and I don't even know how it is really supposed to taste because when I did it I messed up and cooked it in the oven instead than in a pan... so, feel free to correct me...


	5. New Rules

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor sets some new Rules that the inhabitants of Number 4, the Dursley accept

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter is a bit short but stay assured the next is longer! And we will finally get to the day Harry gets his Hogwart's letter.
> 
> And if you were curious, the 'stories' Alastor tells Harry are the retelling of his murders, he just words them so they sound like gory fables.

As soon as they finished up breakfast, Mr. Alastor tapped one of his clawed fingers against the table, making all the plates disappear in a wisp of red smoke.

His smile grew sharper as he tapped his claw again, red glowing chains appeared around the Dursleys’ wrists and necks, like they were prisoners or misbehaving dogs. Harry sent a questioning glance to Mr. Alastor, who just smirked at him.

Uncle and Aunt had paled as that happened, Dudley tried to get the chains off of him, but obtaining the opposite effect, having them grow tighter against his limbs.

“Stop struggling, or they will get even tighter” the man admonished Dudley, while keeping his glowing red gaze on Dudley’s parents. “Now, that we are all here” Mr. Alastor started a hint of amusement in his static-y voice “There has to be some changes to the rules of this household. First, I don’t want to see my…, lets say my _charge_ treated as a slave or servant, anymore. He can do some of the chores, having responsabilities does build character after all, but you don’t have to expect him to do all of them. Are we clear on this?”

Harry looked astonished at the words Mr. Alastor had just said,  _was he really…? He just asked the man to protect him, instead he… was doing so much more!_ Harry felt his little smile grow when his relatives nodded at Mr. Alastor’s question.

“Wonderful!”he exclaimed “You can give some of the heavier chores to your… _son_ , maybe that will help him get some virtues. You don’t want him to end up in my _Circle_ after all, do you?” Mr. Alastor laughed the sound low and more static-y than usual.

Harry wasn’t sure of what the man meant but his relatives had paled at the words and immediately shook their heads as soon as he stopped talking.

“Second: I want my charge to have his room moved in your son’s second bedroom, no boy needs that many playthings. And honestly to be so obsessed with being ‘normal’ you certainly don’t have many qualms in locking a boy in a broom closet.” Mr. Alastor smirked, while the Dursleys’ nodded again. “And third: Don’t ever raise a hand against my charge, ever. I will know if you do, no matter if I am not in the room-” Mr. Alastor’s smile grew even sharper, the static in his voice got louder, and even the light in the room got muted as if darkness was filling the room “- _I will know._ ”

  
Three tall shadows bleeding neon from their eyes rose from the floor, putting their clawed hands on Harry’s relatives’ shoulders. The three almost yelled in fear, just to get their voices stuck in their throats as their gaze fell on the being that was sitting in their kitchen near Harry, the expression on his face was so evil and…  _delighted_ that made their blood freeze in their veins.

It looked like the being was  _enjoying_ their fear, how could Harry be smiling up to the creature was something they could not understand.

“We’ll not...we’ll never hurt him” Aunt Petunia stuttered.

“It would be better for you” Mr. Alastor answered, then the static slowly faded in its usual volume, the shadows melted away. And then with a snap of his fingers, Mr Alastor made the chain disappear.

Then with just a gesture of his hand he made clear to the Dursleys that they could, and had to, get out of the kitchen.

“Now, Harry, I believe I was telling you one of my favorite stories, were was I?”  
  
Harry smiled, still in awe of the power shown by the man, not feeling scared or uneasy in his presence instead feeling like he was finally really safe, the warmth of his scar appeared like it was agreeing with him. 

“The hunter had invited the young lady in his home, and was preparing dinner for both”

Mr. Alastor smiled again with an enthusiastic exclamation, before continuing to tell the story his voice lowering in that static-y hiss only Harry could understand.

Unknowingly to both, the child and the demon, the blood magic wards of Number 4 Privet Drive, faded from the house, forming again around the tall deer demon and Harry that was listening intently to the story that was being told to him.


	6. The Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two years have passed since Mr. Alastor came into his life. And Today Harry turns eleven.

It had been two years since the day, Harry found Mr. Alastor’s microphone staff, two years since the day that had changed his life for better.

After Mr. Alastor had set the new rules, things had gone even better for him. He finally had a room, he had things to call his own, and every time he even only suspected that his relatives’ were about to try and do something to him, in retailation, he just had to tell it to the shadows, or Mr. Alastor himself and they’d take care of the issue.

Slowly without no-one noticing the Dursleys had become shadows in their own home, they had learn the same lessons that they taught to their young nephew. To be seen, but not heard. To not be greedy, and always thank when they received the minimum necessary to keep them alive, not that Harry knew it.

He just saw Mr. Alastor look down at the Dursley, he didn’t know of the demon deeds. Of how Mr. Alastor would just make their food vanish as soon as Harry moved his gaze away, of how he would make his shadow lurk and punish the Dursley at even the slight mishap in the following of the rules.

Mr. Alastor was the tyrant of the house, and Harry is little beloved pupil.

Not that Harry knew anything about it.

Today was Harry’s eleventh birthday, and the boy was happy, smiling as he always was. Death green eyes sparkling as he twirled with a shadow, his small hands gently held by the clawed fingers of the being, Mr. Alastor was by the side, smiling as he always did, his eyes though were on the miserable three that sat by the fireplace, silent as statues.

A soft shuffle of papers falling to the floor, interrupted Harry’s twirling.

“Dudley, be a dear and pick up the mail” Mr. Alastor said, his voice pleasant, though Dudley knew it was all appearance. The monster was never pleasant with any of them that weren’t Harry.

Dudley hated Harry, his cousin had ruined everything! Since he had brought that monster in red in their house, he and his parents had become nothing more than  slaves , shunned and treated like rags in their own house. Dudley hated Harry but he didn’t had the courage to do anything against him, because if he tried the shadow with the pins in his eyes would have crawled out of whatever shade it was in, and it would have started stinging him with its big pins, and then clawing him, but never too much because the monster wanted them, he and his parents, to be able to maintain the charade of being alright for Harry’s sake.

Under the ever-looking gaze of Mr. Alastor, Dudley went and picked up the mail, giving it to whom ever it was addressed to. Stopping for a moment when he arrived to a yellowish letter with a seal stamped in wax, that was addressed: “Mr. Harry J. Potter; Second Bedroom, Number 4 Privet Drive”

“Well? I see you there with a letter in hand, give it so we can continue Harry’s birthday celebrations” 

With a jolt, Dudley was brought back into motion by Mr. Alastor’s slightly cold tone, so just to not make the monster angry, which luckily he had never seen but he didn’t want to risk it, he went and gave the letter to Harry.

Harry’s eyes sparkled even more, as he took the letter.  
  
“Mr. Alastor! Mr. Alastor! I have a letter, it’s addressed to me!” he exclaimed, his accent had gone from the normal one he had to the strange tilting accent that the monster used, because Harry liked to imitate the monster, Dudley thought bitterly as his cousin showed the letter to Mr. Alastor, who laughed softly at his enthusiasm, a soft laughing track accompaning his laugh.

Dudley returned to the sofa, and sat near his mother.

\---

Harry gave the letter to Mr. Alastor, almost trembling with enthusiasm. He had never received a letter, and he didn’t know anything of a place named Hogwarts so… but he was really happy either way.

Mr. Alastor slashed carefully the side of the envelope using one of his claws as a paper knife, he then read the letter, his smile turned into a smirk.

“Well, you are a wizard, Harry” Mr. Alastor said “just as we suspected, this is an invite to s school of Wizardry of the name of Hogwarts, as… distasteful as it is for a name. And they sent you a list of items you will need for the term as well. But not were to go to buy them… interesting.” he continued, tilting his head by the side, while he lent him the letter so that he could read it for himself.

Harry read the words written in twirling ink on parchment, and felt his smile widen. So there were others like him, other wizards, Mr. Alastor hadn’t been sure of that, since magical people lived secluded in his time, so he didn’t know if there were other British wizards, but there were! And they invited him into their school!  
“Do you know where we could go, Mr. Alastor?”  
  
“Sadly not, at this time but I sent one of my shadows to search, tomorrow we will know where to go!” the man exclaimed. “Now, I think we have a celebration to resume, haven’t we, dear?”

Harry nodded, while he carefully folded the letter and put it in one of the pockets of his jacket, Aunt Petunia had started buying him new clothes after Mr. Alastor had told her something, and she asked him what he wanted and he told her that he wanted to look like Mr. Alastor, so she brought him many little suits to his measure, or the nearest thing to his measure, Mr. Alastor had been happy… in seeing him in his little reddish suit. “Hm, before resuming the celebration, Mr. Alastor, can I ask you a question?”  
  
“Of course, dear!”

“When I go to this… school will _you_ be there with _me_?”  
  
“I did promise you, I would always be with you to protect you, didn’t I?”

“So… _you’ll go with me_?” 

Mr. Alastor smiled, slightly less wider than usual. “Of course.”

After that they resumed the celebration of his birthday and there and then Harry decided that his eleventh birthday was the best of his life.


	7. Diagon alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Alastor go to Diagon Alley, they discover many interesting things while at the bank.   
> But the greater surprise? Harry's wand.

Harry was really excited for today, so much so that he almost hadn’t be able to sleep, at the thought of being able to see the wizards’ world. When morning came Harry got up to prepare himself for the day, choosing one of the redder in tint suits he had, since most of his clothes were just only vaguely red, or at least not of the vibrant red he wanted them to be after putting the suit on, carefully so to not make the cloth crease, he adjusted his hair the best he could since they were unruly, and then with the uttermost care went to put on his bow-tie, it looked a bit too big for his neck but Harry didn’t care really, because of what that bow-tie meant to him.

Mr. Alastor had gifted him this bow-tie, it was one of his, and so it was the most precious thing Harry had along with the medallion, that Mr. Alastor turned into a tie pin so that he could pin it on the knot of the bow-tie. The bright red eye of the microphone glinted slightly of its own red glow. It was strange, it looked intimidating, Harry loved it!

Harry left his room feeling confident and most of all happy, he got downstairs, where Mr. Alastor was waiting for him in the kitchen for breakfast, that his Aunt had prepared.

Harry had to admit that his Aunt… wasn’t that good at cooking, but he always tried to be courteous to her even though her cooking tasted bland. Mr. Alastor had corrected her a few times, but in the end he decided that she wasn’t worth his effort.

Instead, while the Dursleys ‘enjoyed’ Aunt Petunia’s bland cooking, he and Mr. Alastor ate what Mr. Alastor’s shadow prepared for them, since the man didn’t like to cook in front of the Dursleys, but he had done it sometimes when they were alone in the house, and even let Harry help him!

Mr. Alastor really appeared to like meat, Harry had noticed, it had been, in various forms and renditions in every plate the shadow prepared for them. This time it was in the form of a spicier version of black pudding, and crispy bits of beacon served with white rice.

After thanking the shadow and Mr. Alastor, because he always did it even though the man had said to him that it wasn’t necessary, Harry started eating his tasty breakfast.

Unknown to the boy, his relatives watched at him with envy, while Mr. Alastor smiled cruelly at them, at which they started heating their bland cold oatmeal before the demon decided to make it vanish from their plates.

As soon as breakfast was finished, Dudley rose from his seat and started silently to pick up the empty plates to go and wash them. Usually Harry would have helped, but today it was a special day and so Harry was exempted from doing any chores, even the easier ones.

Mr. Alastor turned to Harry. “Can you give me your tie pin, dear?”

Harry nodded and quickly unpinned the tie pin and gave it to Mr. Alastor, who after a moment rose from his seat, as the pin turned back into his microphone staff, then he extended his free clawed hand. “Ready to go, Harry?” he asked, the boy nodded as he too rose from his seat. “Fantastic! Now take my hand and don’t let it go until I say you can, alright?”

Harry nodded again, taking Mr. Alastor’s hand, as soon as he did so, both of them disappeared in a sparkle of reddish tinted static.

\---

They appeared in front of an inconspicuous building, that was practically invisible to the eyes of those that didn’t have magic.

“My shadow said that this was the most likely entrance for the place where the wizard-kind lives” Mr. Alastor explained, then he tilted his head a bit to the side, a smile, slightly smaller than usual, on his face the light in his glowing eyes good-naturally teasing. “You can let go of my hand, now, dear.”

Harry blushed a bit in embarrassment and let go, but quickly smiled back as the two of them entered the building.

The inside looked bigger than the outside appeared, and it also looked like a pub, filled with talking people, but there were glasses and plates floating towards tables, and the people themselves didn’t look as normal Londoners.

Silence fell upon the group as they entered, all eyes went on Mr. Alastor, who didn’t seemed at all disturbed by their staring, and the judging glances they were sending in his direction. Harry thought he saw some disgust here and there on some faces, and that made him angry, they didn’t have any right to judge Mr. Alastor!

Then the eyes of some people fell on him, and whispers started filling the air.

“ _Is that…?”_

“ _That scar… it’s_ him _!”_

“ _The Boy Who Lived”_

“ _Why is he with a_ dark creature _?”_

“ _He is so little… he shouldn’t be alone with such a…_ being”

Harry felt is anger grow at those last comments, _who were this_ _people_ _to think_ they _could_ judge _Mr. Alastor?! To call him names! He was_ Harry’s Guardian _, he was the one who took_ care _of him, and made sure that Harry was treated as a_ person _instead of an object or worse than that_!

Mr. Alastor’s smile grew thinner and thinner as the comments continued but he didn’t say anything to the mass whispering like they thought they weren’t heard. He remained unusually silent while they made their way to the counter where an old, kind looking man stood, with a kind, good-natured smile on his face.

“Welcome” said the man” I’m Tom, and I guess you are here to go to Diagon Alley for Hogwarts’ supplies?”

Mr. Alastor nodded, answering only after a moment, his voice so thick with static that it almost sounded like his static-y hiss. The sound of his voice was enough to silence all those that were still whispering, and startle Mr. Tom.

“Uh… I guess you need my help to enter the Alley… hum, please follow me” Mr. Tom said.

Harry didn’t like to see Mr. Alastor so… silent, so he asked: “Are you alright, Mr. Alastor?” keeping his tone low enough that people would have believed him to be trying to not be heard other than from his Guardian but loud enough to have the exact opposite effect.

Mr. Alastor had told him once, that he had power only on those that knew his name, and that was why Harry had said it, so now every single mean person in this magic pub was fair game to Mr. Alastor’s shadows if he wanted to mess with them.

“I am quite well! Why, thank you, dear!” Mr. Alastor exclaimed, his smile was back once more to its usual aspect, and his voice was back to normal.   
Harry was happier now that Mr. Alastor was back to his usual self.

Then he and Mr. Alastor followed Mr. Tom in what appeared to be a gloomy dead-ended alley.

“Now look carefully so you’ll be able to open the passage yourself next time” Mr. Tom said, and tapped a stick… –his wand, Mr. Alastor, said that wizards needed wands to use magic–against a brick in the wall which slowly started opening.

A colorful alley was behind the passage, the road filled with people, walking, buying, and chatting. Shops of every size decorated the sides of the alley, together with stands that were selling potion ingredients, or so their signs said, and other selling charms, and charmed bracelets and lockets.

This time not many noticed their arrive, though much to Harry displeasure some of those who did seemed to direct the same judging glare to Mr. Alastor, he even heard someone mutter something about a ‘ _Nocturnal Alley_ ’ or something like that.

Harry was starting to think that he didn’t like wizards if they were all so judgmental, though he liked the Alley, and how magical it felt.

“We should go to the bank first, I have noticed some signs sport a different currency than the pound. We might need to change the money your d _ear relatives_ gave so _kindly_ to us.” Mr. Alastor said, his accent tilting in a way when he pronounced the words ‘dear relatives’ and ‘kindly’ that made those words sound like he meant the exact opposite, which he probably was.

The bank was different from the rest of the alley, a stark contrast with his elegance set in stone and gold instead of the excessively colored appearance of the rest of the buildings.

They entered the bank, Mr. Alastor’s dress shoes clicked against the marble floor, in the way that they did when he wanted all attention on him, since, and Harry knew, he could walk as silently as a shadow when he didn’t want to be noticed.

Many wizard, and some of the creatures turned their head towards them, some wizards turned their eyes immediately, some in fear of Mr. Alastor sharp smile, some in badly disguised disgust, others continued staring at him, whispering something about the Boy-Who-Lived, even though Harry didn’t know what they meant with that.

Soon came their turn, the creature was curt and no-nonsense like when he, for his voice appeared male, spoke to them.

“We are here to change some pounds in wizard’s currency.” Mr. Alastor answered, just as curtly “And to check if there were any accounts for Harry James Potter?”

The whispering around them increased as his name was called. Mr. Alastor ignored it, his glowing eyes on the creature.

“Of course there are. Do you have the key?” The creature said, tapping impatiently his quill against the book in front of him.

“No, but Mr. Potter is here with me. There is any way he can stake his claims?”

The creature nodded. “A simple identity test, from the account manager will suffice if the boy is who you claim he is” after saying this words, the creature made a gesture to tell them to follow him, while he told something to another of his kind dressed as a guard.

Mr. Alastor tightened his grip on his staff.

Harry followed them, getting a bit closer to Mr. Alastor, who put his free hand on his shoulder.

  
They were brought to an office, or well, they called it that, it was bigger than any office Harry had ever seen, with marble floor, and with sharp, golden weapons on show on the walls. Behind a mahogany desk, sat another of the creatures, slightly older than the one that guided them.

He told them to sit, with a gesture of his clawed hands, his claws though were smaller and less sharp than Mr. Alastor’s. They did.

“I am Griphook, the manager for the Potters vaults” the creature, Griphook, told them.

“I am Alastor, and my charge, Harry Potter” Mr. Alastor answered, the sharp grin on Griphook’s face thinned, his eyes on turned on Mr. Alastor, as if… _he knew him? Or maybe knew his name_ …

Then the grin returned.

“It’s been a while since we have saw an _Overlord_ up here, and in the Wizarding World… with a _human_ charge nonetheless” Griphook said.

Harry was confused but since the words of the creature seemed to put Mr. Alastor at ease, he felt calmer too.

“Interesting, isn’t it? But we are not here to chat, now are we?” Mr. Alastor said.

Griphook nodded.”To access the vaults, I need to have confirm that you are indeed Harry Potter. I will just need a three blood drops on this parchment”, he put the parchment on the desk along with a sharp blade.

Harry was about to do as told but Mr. Alastor stopped him.

  
“Why do you need his blood?”

The grin on Griphook’s face widened into a sharp smile. “It’s been centuries since I’ve seen somebody who actually recognizes the importance of blood in magic” he said “But no need to worry, Lord Alastor. His blood will be used only activate the potion with which the parchment is imbued, and nothing more.”

“How can I be sure of that? The blade will get tainted. And there are many uses for metal tainted with blood.”

“If it is for your peace of mind, I’ll give you the dagger as soon as the test is finished. But be warned, goblin’s blades don’t fare well with your kind, Lord Alastor.”

The shadows grew around them, as Mr. Alastor (or was it Lord Alastor? No, Mr. Alastor would have corrected him if he wasn’t okay with how he called him) sensed the threat in the goblin words.

“I will take the dagger, I know how to handle blades.” Mr. Alastor answered, his voice low and static-y, his reptile pupils had turned to radio dials as they did when Mr. Alastor really got angry.

“Well then, shall we get on with this? So you can go on with your day?”

Mr. Alastor nodded, his eyes turned back to normal, but the shadows remained.

Under Mr. Alastor’s careful gaze, Harry pricked the tip of his finger, as the man had told him, with the sharp blade. He let his blood drip on the parchment, only three drops as the goblin said and he moved his hand away. Mr. Alastor healed the small wound with his magic. Blood was important and Mr. Alastor wasn’t about to let him shed even just a drop more in this place.

The result of the test came back immediately.

In red blood ink the words appeared on the parchment:  
  
“ _Name: Harry James Potter_

_Mother: Lily Jacynth Potter nee Evans (deceased)_

_Father: James Charlus Potter(deceased)  
_

_Godfather(father though blood adoption): Sirius Orion Black (imprisoned)_

_Magical Guardian:_ ~~_Albus Ulfric Brian Dumbledore_ ~~ _Alastor (through Deal)_ ”

Harry looked at the parchment, reading his parents name again and again. He…  _had never known them_ , and now he knew that his middle name had been his father’s name, now he knew that he had a godfather.

“I have a godfather? Why was I send to… my non-magical relatives then?” 

“Your godfather has been imprisoned, Heir Potter. For betraying your parents to Lord Voldemort.”  


“Betraying them to... _who_ ? They didn’t die in a car accident?”  


The goblin seemed almost shocked, or as shocked as his face could show. “No, they were killed in the last war, against the Dark Lord Voldemort… you were the only survivor of that attack. It’s said you vanquished him… you didn’t know, Heir Potter?”  


“No, I didn’t have any idea”

“Well, isn’t this…  _strange_ ? An Heir, _the last of a family_ , a  _hero_ … put away without knowing its heritage… And who is this Dumbledore that is listed, even if scratched away, as my charge Guardian?” Mr. Alastor asked, he appeared as crossed as Harry was. Probably because if he had known before he would have done more, he would have seen that he was back in his world before than now.

“Albus Dumbledore is Hogwarts’ Headmaster, vanquisher of Dark Lord Grindelwald and posses many titles in the Wizengamot” the goblin answered.

“Well, if he is Hogwarts Headmaster…  _I will have a talk with him_ when my charge gets to his school” Mr. Alastor all but hissed in his static-y, threatening way.

Still shocked with hi s discoveries Harry, following Mr. Alastor, left Griphook’s office.

\---

After their stop to his trust vault. They started buying what was written on the list and some more.

For “ _You can’t just keep only two cloaks, Harry!_ ” or “ _I refuse to believe that this is the best quality ingredients they have, I have_ _had_ _better in the bayou with less choice_ ”; or even “ _We should pick the introductory books, Harry, since we both don’t know how the Wizarding World works_ ”.

All in all Mr. Alastor’s eccentricity had helped in distract him from the shock from the discovery happened in the bank.

They even went to the animal shop to pick an owl for his mail, since owls were how wizards sent their post with, in the end though Harry left the shop with a black raven, since none of the owls appeared to be able to stand in Mr. Alastor’s presence without started shrieking and flapping their wings violently as if they tried to scare him away.

  
The last stop was the wand shop. Ollivander  which despite the fact that was magical and strange ended up in him paying only for the core of his wand, with a crestfallen wand master that had never in his long life saw a wizard match with a core and not with a full wand, but he gave him the advice to search for his cousin Geralt Furfur in Nocturn Alley, for he may had the right wand for him…  _hopefully_ .

And so they went.

Nocturn Alley was different from Diagon Alley, darker, duller and emptier. Luckily the people there knew better than to go near someone with sharp teeth, antlers and claws, and no-one disturbed them or even looked at them, bar for a passing glance and a silent whisper.

Ollivander’s cousin shop was gloomier than Ollivander’s, but just as his cousins’  Furfur’s shop was filled to the ceiling with cabinets.

“I think we will find your wand here” Mr. Alastor had said, all in a purr of static. It was almost as if he felt right at home in this dark place, Harry didn’t feel so sure but he didn’t feel uneasy so it was alright. He closed a bit more his hand on the bright phoenix feather, as they waited.

Geralt Furfur was a strange person, he was livelier than his cousin, his golden eyes almost glowing with enthusiasm and excitement as he welcomed them in his shop.

Harry went through only a few wands before Mr. Furfur decided to change approach.

“There is no wand right for you… but that only means that we’ll have to make it. Here, here.” The man said guiding them to another part of his shop, it had blocks of various woods, and various objects kept in jars. “We already know that you are compatible with a phoenix feather core, the thing that is left is the right wood, and maybe another core, you are brimming with magic, Mr. Potter. So we maybe need to split the magic so to not burn the wood again” he explained as he put various blocks of wood on a table, he put some of the last down using gloves.

Mr. Furfur then told Harry to close his eyes and hover his hand on the blocks and tell him which of them felt right. So Harry did, he hovered his hand on the blocks feeling nothing in most cases or just a light tingle, then he felt it, the same warmth that he felt with the phoenix feather.   
“It’s this one” he said opening his eyes, the block of wood under his hand was of a bloody dark red, that reminded him of Mr. Alastor’s eyes, the wood itself appeared to be shiny as if covered in blood.

  
“ _My, oh, my!_ Jobokko wood, I’ve never seen anyone pair with this. Such a dark wood, it favors bloodshed and violence, it is quite temperamental too. What are we to expect from you, Mr. Potter, hm?” even though the words were unsettling to Harry, Mr. Furfur tone wasn’t judgmental, instead it sounded almost elated at the news. Mr. Alastor’s smile widened.

“Now for the cores, you’ll have to do just as you did for the woods, let’s see what you pair with” as he said this, Mr. Furfur laid down various things of various origin. Harry repeated the same procedure, trying to feel the connection, even if he was almost scared of the result.

Then he felt something, it felt warmer than the phoenix feather, almost hot, like when Mr. Alastor’s medallion warmed up, his scar warmed up as well. “This,  _it’s_ … it’s  _this_ ” he said, opening his eyes. Under his hand a fang, long and curved and extremely sharp.

“The fang of a Peryton,” Mr. Furfur said “also known as the  _Man-eater Deer_ . Just as the Jobokko, it favors violence, but it is also calculating and cold, just as the Peryton is when it disguises its roar in the voice of a loved one to attract its prey. This is interesting, really interesting. I wonder how they will combine with the phoenix feather, it is such a pure, light element for a wand this dark.” the man wondered out loud.

Harry looked at Mr. Alastor, unsure. But the man smiled at him, reassuring him with his acceptance.

Mr. Furfur then retired in the back of the shop to assemble the wand together, he almost seemed giddy in creating something so… twisted. He was so different from his collected cousin in Diagon Alley.

“Mr. Alastor?” he called when they were alone.

“Yes?”

  
“Do… you think I am a  _bad person_ ?”  
  
Mr. Alastor tilted his head. “Why would you think this, my dear?”  
  
“My wand.. is made up with dark object, so Mr. Furfur said, they are attracted to violence and bloodshed and…  _they called to me_ .”  
  
Mr. Alastor smiled, putting a clawed hand on his shoulder. “So? Even if those are ‘dark’ why should that define you? And at the core of that ‘dark wand’ there is the feather of a phoenix, light, as bright as the sun… do you really think that that would have chosen you if you were ‘ _bad_ ’?” A little pause “Besides what is so awful in being ‘ _bad_ ’? Me being scary has kept you safe, hasn’t it? Sometimes, my dear, you need to be ‘ _bad_ ’ to be respected.”  
  
Harry remained in silence for a little while, Mr. Alastor’s words repeating in his head. They were true, Harry’s life had gotten better only after he had arrived, only after the Dursleys had a greater evil to fear, only when they stopped being the greater evil in the house. 

Harry had been treated as less then nothing, and he thought nothing of it, until Mr. Alastor had showed him that he was more, that he could be even more than he was. 

  
_And so, what if his wand meant that he was destined to be ‘dark’? Maybe he would be like Mr. Alastor, the greater evil that protects others from the until then greater evil. If this meant that what of it?_

  
Mr. Alastor was his savior, his Guardian nonetheless.

  
Harry nodded, smiling at the man.

In that moment, Mr. Furfur returned with his wand. “Twelve inches, flexible, Jobokko wood with a core of phoenix feather and Peryton’s fang. And I have to say, my  _best work_ .” he said has he gave him his wand, the blood red wood was shiny as if it had been just dipped in blood, the wand was straight but the wood had a twisting motif carved in, like vines that were ensnaring something, like Mr. Alastor’s shadow tentacles when they enveloped something, closing on it until their objective was gone, destroyed and assimilated.

Harry smiled as he took his wand, warmth flooding him and his scar.

Mr. Alastor smiled, as the shadows grew darker and thicker… and _this time not by his will_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys, I've a question for you: In which house do you think my Harry should be? I don't think he will be a Griffindor but I don't know which one of the other three houses best suits him, so... what is your opinion on this?   
> Thank you in advance for the answers ^^


	8. Learning about the world we live in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry, and Alastor, learn about the Wizarding world, while both disagree with the wizardkind in some aspects, there are others they wholeheartedly accept.

In the weeks following the trip in Diagon and Nocturn Alley, Harry, and Mr. Alastor as well since he was fascinated by the Wizarding World if not it inhabitants, that had made quite the bad first appearance with their rudeness, had passed their time, in Harry’s room, learning from the introductory books at the Wizarding World.

Which made them even more _adverse_ to the wizard-kind.

“Judging people by their blood? It doesn’t make sense!” Harry had exclaimed while reading a guide to the wizard society after arriving at the chapter so aptly named: ‘ _Blood status and why it’s important’_

“Indeed” Mr. Alastor had agreed while reading a book that was about magical classification titled ‘ _Light and Dark and the Magics in between_ ’ “One would think that wizards would prefer power over something like blood. Blood is all the same when spilled, and magic does not care from where it comes when it is offered as a sacrifice, being Purebloods or half-bloods, or what else, does not matter in the slightest to magic… believe me. I know.”

“I believe you, Mr. Alastor, of course!” Harry answered “This chapter is filled with just nonsense! I mean under the logic that this follows, you wouldn’t even have enough magic to use a lumos correctly, but that’s not true! You are the most powerful being ever!” 

“While I am flattered by your compliments, tell me why this book of yours says that I should not have magic?” Mr. Alastor said, raising his eyes from his book.

Harry nodded “Well the book says here after talking about muggleborns: ‘ _But the worst kind would be the half or full-breed, a being that should be considered more animal than man, these wizards are definable as such only for their parentage as they don’t have any magic filling their bodies’_ Which first of is incredibly racist, to call people animal just because they aren’t human or fully human, and second of is completely untrue!”

“Quite” answered Mr. Alastor in a hiss of static “I’m starting to dislike wizards more and more as I learn about their culture, of course I do not consider you as part of these… _beings_ , you are much better than them.” he said adding the last part as he saw the look on Harry’s face at his words.

The two talked a bit more about all the ‘blood status’ discourse, before returning to their respective books,

* * *

Slowly, mostly because they had many things to say about what they read. Such as Mr. Alastor’s strong feelings in regards of the definition of dark and light in magic, which didn’t have much sense in his opinion.

‘ _Light or white was magic meant to help the caster, while dark or black was magic meant to harm a subject_ ’ he had said.  
And with his definition basically all of the ‘Light curriculum’ of spells in his first year book fell in the category of dark, especially the hexes, and the so-called ‘ _light curses_ ’.

“There are no ‘ _light_ ’ curses in this world, I do not even know what in Hell they mean with that. A curse always means to hurt those who are its objectives. It does not matter if you are cursing them to be unable to sleep for a day, or so that they spit slugs for a minute, it’s a curse. It’s dark.” Mr. Alastor had said after reading the books from Harry’s school curriculum, he seemed almost exasperated by the forced and continually brought up division in ‘ _Light_ ’ and ‘ _Dark_ ’.

In the end they finished reading all the introductory books ending up ordering other of them other books about the Wizarding culture by raven, which Harry had called Husk, Mr. Alastor had laughed a bit at that but didn’t explain why to Harry.

The first book they read of the new arrives was about etiquette, for Mr. Alastor was pretty set in the fact that first appearance was the most important, so if Harry wanted to be respected he had not only to make them fear him but he also had to impress them, and sometimes he would have just to impress and not scare.

They read the book with care and Mr. Alastor made him practice every greeting for as many times as it was needed until it was ingrained in his mind.

Which made Harry very aware of the fact that Mr. Alastor was a very strict teacher, and that he demanded for absolute perfection. But that didn’t bother Harry in any way, even if the writing practice with the quill left him with both his hands(because Mr. Alastor said that it was best to know how to write with both hands to be ready for any possibility) with cramps for a while.

The part that Harry preferred of Mr. Alastor’s teachings, with the help of the books, was magic in itself. Mr. Alastor saw magic in a way so different from what it was on the books, and at the same time he saw it was something that was alive, breathing and always changing, while most of the books, approved by the Ministry, seemed to imply that magi was just a force, an energy that wizards could harvest and use.

“That is not what magic is,” Mr. Alastor had said after they had read a paragraph from a Theory of Magic book. “Magic is not just an energy, is not just something to use,”he had added “Magic is alive as you are, it breathes and grows with you. And just as any living being magic needs to be fed, this is why blood is so important. Blood is the essence of life, and magic needs it to continue existing, fresh blood spilled for new magic, this is how it goes.” 

And so Harry learned, he learned magic as wizards wanted to see it, and magic as it really was. And the more he learned, warmer his scar got in Mr. Alastor’s presence.

His scar which was a curse scar as they learned from the books, a curse scar left to him by Lord Voldemort’s demise, a scar that was in the shape not of a lightning bolt as many ‘modern history of magic’ books claimed, but that had the shape of the rune ‘ _sig_ ’, an ‘S’ drawn in harsh lines, the rune of power and greatness. Forever etched in his skin

Mr. Alastor had looked at the rune, and just for a moment Harry could see in his glowing eyes the burning need to scratch it with his claws to make him bleed. It was the first time in which Harry had ever saw something violent in the eyes of Mr. Alastor, but he didn’t move, he blindly trusted the man in front of him.

And the moment passed, and Mr. Alastor hadn’t even moved a finger towards him.

And Harry learned that runes and sigils were a big no-no to study with Mr. Alastor, they made him… _scary_. The way his eyes lit up when reading, the way blood-lust would fill his eyes and his smile was unsettling, and Harry didn’t like it, though he accepted it as part of who Mr. Alastor was.

Anther thing that made Mr. Alastor scary, but in a different way, in a way that made Harry want to imitate him was when they practiced spells. Mr. Alastor learned the incantations fast, and made those spells his just as fast.  He could now hiss in static and make a fire appear in between his claws, he loved to manipulate that fire in front of the Dursleys making the fire spit and crackle and hiss as it took the form of a snake slithering around his arms and then down on the floor, make it lunge and disappear before its fiery fangs touched anybody.

  
Harry wanted to be able to do the same, but with a wand things took more time. 

In between learning and practicing time flew by and in what appeared to be a moment, the First of September arrived.

And Harry was ready. (and excited for the prospect of living in a magic castle for six month a year, though he did admit that he didn’t like the fact that that meant that he’d have less time to talk with Mr. Alastor, which would have to stay inside the medallion-turned-tie-pin for lots of time.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are curious about how the trace doesn't act up when Harry practices magic, it's thanks to Alastor's presence. His magic permeates so much the house that to the Ministry's trace it feels like they are in a magic home.
> 
> And thank you guys for your answers, now I know in which house Harry will be though you will see it in the next chapter ;)


	9. First of September

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes to Hogwarts, makes some friends on the train and gets sorted

After breakfast, which had been a tad more special then usual since it was the last breakfast he and Mr. Alastor would have together for a while, Harry went back to his room, Mr. Alastor with him.

The boy checked his trunk to see if he had forgot to pack something the night before.

His clothes, pressed wool suits and silky cloaks were all neatly folded and put in one of the magical compartments of his trunk–Mr. Alastor had bought him the best trunk they had in the store, for a standard one wouldn’t have let him compartmentalize things well, and so that he had some extra-space just in case he needed it– in a little wooden case he had several differently styled bow-ties, and three made with a charm that would have worked as the charm that was put on school ties, since Harry really didn’t want to wear a tie, he preferred bow-ties and in  _Hogwarts: A story_ there were no mentions about being forbidden to wear some other kind of tie instead of the one normally used in the uniform.

Then he checked the compartment with his school books, everything was in order there, by the side of the books there was an auto-refilling binder filled with parchments–it had costed some galleons more, then just a standard stack of parchment, but it was better than having constantly to worry about using all the parchment and needing to order more mid-term– and his writing set on top of it in it there were: his writing quills, one made from the standard goose feather and another made by a crow feather, and a set of glass inkwells, one filled with black ink, another with transparent ink charmed so that it appeared of the color wanted from its user, and the last in red ink (it was Mr. Alastor that had insisted for the last one, in case he needed to write a binding contract for any reason, red ink could be used to substitute blood, so that the resulting contract would be stronger than one written in a different color).

And by the side of his writing set, there was one singular quill, put in transparent case. The quill was made by a focale feather, and sported the typical color of the magical bird dark purple that turned blood red toward the tip (as many of the particular things he had, this too had been Mr. Alastor’s suggestion, just like the red ink. The magic inherent to the feather would have made his contracts more binding, so that they couldn’t be broken or easily  fooled even with the help of loopholes if there were any).

The last compartment that was mostly empty, bar for the goblin-forged dagger that Griphook had given Mr. Alastor. The sharp dagger was folded in a velvety cloth, spelled so that it made the object invisible to those that didn’t know its existence. 

Mr. Alastor had given him the dagger, since it was tainted with his blood, and blood-tainted metal was an important part in some magical rituals, either to harm or benefict the person from which the blood came. Mr. Alastor had also taught him some sigils so that he could reclaim the dagger as his, so that nobody could take it or use it in any ritual without his explicit permission. 

Harry had done the reclaiming ritual immediately, saying the words Mr. Alastor had taught him, after painting the symbols on the dagger with just a tiny bit of his blood.

Mr. Alastor had then tried to see if the ritual had worked by taking the dagger without asking him first, and frowned a bit when he had been able to take it without problems, Harry had then told the man that he trusted him, always, so magic had probably considered Mr. Alastor exent from the effects of the reclaiming ritual.

They had then tried to see if it had worked with the unknown help of the Dursleys, Dudley brought his hand back from the dagger just as soon as his fingers went near it, hissing a bit in pain.

Harry would have probably felt bad for causing pain to another, if Dudley hadn’t been so unsufferable before Mr. Alastor’s arrival.

Back to the present Harry closed the compartments and then the trunk itself, hissing, as he had recently discovered that he could talk to snakes and hiss like them, the password to the lock so that only he could open the trunk back up. Then he reduced its dimensions with the help of a spell, and casted a feather-weight charm on it, and put the truck in his jacket pocket.

He went back to the mirror, for a moment, just to check if everything was still straight, and had just to straighten his bow-tie a bit, before pinning the staff-turned-tie-pin on the knot of his bow-tie.

“You will do well” Mr. Alastor said, when he saw the uncertainty in his eyes, Harry looked back at the man from his reflection in the mirror. “No, you will do better than well. You understand magic better than most, maybe all of them.” he added “But remember to never, never underestimate your possible enemies, yes?”

Harry nodded.

“I will be right there with you. You know that, you will just have to call my name and I will be by your side.” Harry looked back at the man, he knew that Mr. Alastor was going to come with him to Hogwarts, but he would still miss the possibility to speak whenever with him, to talk about everything with someone who didn’t judge him ever… even when his thought became morbid as he voiced them. 

Like when he told Mr. Alastor about how much he wanted the Dursleys dead, because even now they hadn’t payed enough for what they did to him before Mr. Alastor came and helped him, he told him of what he dreamed to do to them, and instead of being disgusted, Mr. Alastor had smiled and told him “We need to wait just a while longer.”. He was going to miss this in Hogwarts.

“Just one more thing be sure to keep the eye on the pin uncovered if you want me to be able to see what you see” Mr. Alastor said, bringing him back to reality with his static-y voice.

“I will” 

Mr. Alastor smiled then, and after that he disappeared in red smoke, returning back in the medallion-turned-tie-pin.

The eye in the microphone started glowing softly of a now familiar red glow. Harry smiled, and went to pick up Husk’s cage.

Then he went downstairs, Uncle Vernon had to bring him to the King’s Cross station.

\---

The station was big, and he had never seen so many people in just one place. There were announcements on the intercom, and people chatting and waiting. Train whistles sounding in the air, as the sound of their shieking wheels on the rails.

Harry walked calmly, he had all the time since he was here early, in respect of when the Hogwarts Express arrived. Arrived to the wall between platform nine and ten, Harry simply kept walking disappearing from the muggles sight, and going from the muggle world to the Wizarding World.  
The wizard part of King’s Cross station was just as busy as the muggle one was, only that to the chattering were added the sounds of owls, and kneasles, and other magical animals permitted to Hogwarts.

Harry didn’t blend easily in the crowd with his muggle clothes, his suit vivid red and neatly pressed, the ticket for the train on one hand the Husk’s cage in the other, his trunk safely tucked in his pocket.

The chattering only increased when people recognized the scar on his forehead, but Harry didn’t give it any mind, smiling softly at those who greeted him, mostly though people seemed to maintain a respectful distance from him, which after the experience at the Leaky Cauldron he didn’t expect.

Mr. Alastor was right, act keeping in mind how you want people to react to you and you’ll obtain what you seek. He acted kind but still unapproachble and people treated him as he wanted. His smile grew slightly at the thought.

The train arrived half an hour after Harry came to the platform. Gleaming red visible through white wisps of vapor, it was beautiful, though it didn’t look that different from a non-magical train. 

After the doors opened, Harry got up the train, Husk crackling softly, slightly less loud than normal ravens would.

\---

Harry had been alone, softly speaking to Mr. Alastor, even thought the other couldn’t answer, for some minutes before a boy entered his compartment.

“Hm… Hi, can I sit here? The other compartments are practically full.” 

Harry nodded smiling at the nervous boy.

“I am Neville Longbottom, from House Longbottom… You?”

“Harry Potter, from House Potter” he answered to the mostly informal greeting of the other. The boy’s eyes grew wide at his name, but just for a moment, then he was back to normal, petting his frog.

Silence fell in between them for some moments. “I thought you could bring only the animals in the list to Hogwarts” Harry said pleasantly.

“Yeah, but see, Trevor is my familiar, as lame at it could appear to have a frog as a familiar… so I can bring him with me”

“I see” Harry answered.

“Sorry for the personal question… uhm… but your accent isn’t… British…so did you… lived elsewhere?” 

“No, I grew up here in England, but my Guardian is a foreigner and I picked up his accent” Harry answered  his smile softening into a more natural one as he thought about Mr. Alastor. A bit of amusement shining in his death green eyes as he thought how much of an understatement was defining Mr. Alastor just as a ‘foreigner’.

“Your Guardian? Was he the creature-”

“He is not a creature, don’t you dare call him that!” Harry snapped, his voice going low just as Mr. Alastor’s voice used to do when he got irritated, sadly he couldn’t static-hiss. 

Neville’s eyes went wide at his sudden change in behavior, how any pleasantness had just left his expression. “I-I’m sorry! Really… really I’m. It’s just they called him that in the Daily Prophet… I’m sorry.”

“You are excused, but only because I understand how filled with predjudice is the Wizarding Culture… But don’t ever call my Guardian, a creature, again. Are we clear?”

Neville nodded, and Harry smiled at him, though that didn’t seem to put the other at ease, at least not immediately.

“Uhm… so… uhm, in, in which House do you think you’ll end up in?” Neville asked after a while “My gran says I should be in Gryffindor as my father had been, but I don’t know… I don’t feel very brave…”

“Well, braveness is a personal concept, so… who knows you could be very brave but just not in the way other people are.” 

“Thank you” Neville said.

“You are welcome! As for which house I could end up in… I don’t know.” Harry answered shrugging “I think I could fit in all of them, but I really don’t have a preference into which I’d like to go.”

“That’s fair…” Neville answered, a little smile on his lips as he started growing comfortable in his presence. Harry smiled back as well.

Silence, this time comfortable, fell in between them, until somebody knocked on the door of their compartment.

“Can I enter?” Said a voice “I got kicked out of my compartment…”

“ of course, come in” Harry said.

A boy, a bit shorter than Neville, with long black hair tied into a short tail, dark skinned and with greenish-brown eyes entered the compartment, trailing his trunk with him.

“Thank you” He said as he took a seat, his eyes pointed on the floor.

“Are you alright…?”Harry asked

“Yeah, jus’ a bit sad” the boy answered. After a little pause, in which nor Neville nor Harry talked, the boy spoke up again. “I’m Matt, Matt Hethe… sorry if I barged in you compartment…” 

“No need to worry, Matt.” Harry answered, Neville said the same almost at the same time.

  
Matt smiled at them.

“So… what happened… in your other compartment?” Neville asked.

“Nuthin’ jus’ the others being mean, ‘cause of my blood status…” Matt answered, and even if he tried to downplay it, he seemed worried of their reaction.

“Ugh, I hate this ‘ _blood status_ ’ thing!” Harry exclaimed, making both, Neville and Matt, look at him. “Blood doesn’t mean a thing! Magic is magic and it’s it that chooses who is powerful and who’s not, not something like blood!” he added “So what if one is a pureblood, a half-blood or a  _muggleborn_ ? Magic decided that you were worthy, and surely as Hell it doesn’t care about where you come from!” Silence fell in between them and Harry blushed a bit,  _so much for trying to be as collected as Mr. Alastor…_

“I agree” Neville said “I may be from a pureblood household but yeah, blood doesn’t mean a thing in regards of magic… I’m sorry if they threw you out of your compartment for something so stupid.”

“No need to be sorry, ‘s not your fault.” Matt said.

“Yeah but… I can’t help it but feel sorry… anyways”

“Well… you must ‘ave a big heart then….” Matt said, his voice trailing a bit, and then both Harry and Neville realized they didn’t tell Matt their names.

“Neville Longbottom” 

“Harry Potter”

Matt looked at Harry “Y’know, you are different from what I thought you’ d be… especially after seein’ you on the papers with the Bayou Demon…”

“Bayou Demon?” Harry asked.

“Ay, my mum is from New Orleans… she recognized the man with you immediately even if the photo was blurred” Matt answered.

“He’s not a demon” Harry said, as his scar warmed up, meaning that his tie-pin was probably getting hot as well. 

“Well, he may not be, No-majs are strange, and luv to write up wha’ they don’t understand as work of the devil.”

“No-majs?” Harry asked, seeing a way to bring the conversation away from Mr. Alastor and the accusation’s that where moved to him.

“Ay, you british call ‘em muggles, I think” 

After that the boys started talking of other things, the discussion about the ‘Bayou Demon’ forgotten.

\---

Hogwarts was… wonderful, Harry had to admit.  
The castle was bigger than any building Harry had ever saw, and he could feel magic singing in the air around it. It seemed almost to sparkle under the moonlight.

A giant of a man was telling them to go on the boats no more than four for boat. 

Harry, Neville and Matt got on one of the boat, another boy, with blond hair joined them, sitting in the empty place near Matt.

“Hello Neville, it’s been a while since the last time we saw each other, I think your grandmother refused the invite to our Christmas’ Ball” the blond boy said.

“We were otherwise occupied, Draco… Maybe we could be at the next year Ball…” Neville said, his nervousness was back and evident in his voice and gestures.

“And the people with you are?”

“Matt Hethe” Matt said, looking pointedly at Draco in his silvery eyes.

“Muggleborn?” Draco asked, a hint of disgust in his face.

“Na’, ‘alf-blood” 

Draco nodded as if to say ‘ _acceptable_ ’. “And you?” he asked turning to Harry.

“Harry Potter, Heir of House Potter” He answered his voice slightly cold, while he pondered if pushing the blond boy in the water could have given him troubles.

Draco’s whole deminor changed at this, and he smiled, if thinly, to him. “Draco Malfoy, Heir of the Noble House of Malfoy. Well met, Heir Potter.” he said formally

  
“Well met” Harry answered as the two of them shacked hands as it was customary to do.

They hadn’t much more time to talk as they finally arrived, and got to enter the castle.

If the castle looked wonderful outside, inside was even better. High gothic looking ceilings, and stone walls covered in living paintings, magic almost palpable, Harry loved it. And from the warming of his scar, he thought that Mr. Alastor might like it as well. He loved magic after all.

Soon a professor, professor McGonagall, took them from Hagrid, the name of the man who had guided them until now, and guided them to the Great Hall. The high ceiling were charmed to look like the night sky, candles floated mid air, there were five tables.

Four that sported the colors of the four houses, and a fifth that was the staff table. The headmaster was smiling good-naturally at the first years, his blue eyes twinkling with a grandfatherly light. Harry met his gaze only for a moment, then his scar and tie-pin grew hot so much that he had to move his eyes away, Mr. Alastor was still really crossed with Dumbledore it appeared.

In front of the staff table there was a  stool with an old tattered hat upon it.

Faintly in the crowd, Harry heard someone say something about his brothers telling him something about trolls.

The hat started singing, but Harry didn’t listen to the words, transfixed on the fact that the hat was a magical artifact, Mr. Alastor told him that he should always be wary of magical artifacts, but… this was in a school,  _certainly it couldn’t be so dangerous right?_

After the song the sorting started.

Professor McGonagall called the names and then put the hat on them, the hat would then say the House in which they belonged.  
The first of Harry maybe-friends to get sorted was Matt. It took almost a minute for the hat to yell: “Ravenclaw”. 

Then it was Neville turn, Harry smiled to him as he had done to Matt, after a moment Neville went to the Gryffindors table. He waved at him.

“I will go in Slytherin” Draco said after a moment of silence as a ‘Lidya Maicorn’ was called.

“How can you be so sure?” Harry asked.

“It’s were all of my family went”

“But this doesn’t mean you’ll do the same…”

  
Before Draco could answer his name was called, the hat didn’t even touch his head before yelling “Slytherin”.

“Guess he was right.” Harry whispered to himself.

After some minutes, his name was called, and the crowd started whispering.

“ _He is really here”_

“ _Why is he dressed like that?”_

“ _I heard he was kidnapped by a monster.”_

“ _Yeah, who knows what it has done to him.”_

“ _My mother says that he is dark”_

Harry just ignored the whispers and went to sit on the stool, Professor McGonagall put the hat on his head.

“Yours is a curious mind, Mr. Potter” a voice said in his head, startling him a bit. “Don’t worry, I’m just looking at your superficial thoughts, no need to call your Guardian in help.” 

Harry tried to calm down a bit.

“I must say you have many qualities, Mr. Potter. I could sort you in any house, you are loyal like an Hufflepuff, brave as a Gryffindor, even if you do have the self-preservation of a Slytherin despite your courage, and you have quite the brain. So tell me, there is somewhere you would want to go?”  
  
Harry thought about the Houses but he really didn’t have a preference, though he wanted to know as much as possible, learn every magic spell he could so that he could be as strong as Mr. Alastor was, to know magic like he did.

“Well… I think I know where you should go.” Then the hat spoke, outside his head: “RAVENCLAW!”

Harry gave the hat back to professor McGonagall, as the Ravenclaw table cheered.

  
Smiling, as his bow-tie, visible from the black cloak, that was part of the school uniform, went from gray to blue with bronze highlight. The eagle of ravenclaw appearing on his cloak.

Harry went to sit to his house table near Matt who immediately smiled back at him.

After a strange welcome speech from the Headmaster, because really who would say to not go somewhere in such a way that would have made people curious, in a school filled with children and teenagers, he didn’t know, the welcome feast started.

Harry picked up a bit of meat from a serving plate potting it into his, it looked delicious but as he bit into it, he found it lacking…

“It ‘sn’t as spicy as what you’re used ta, ‘s it?” Matt asked

Harry nodded.

“Same ‘ere, buddy… ‘m too used ta my mum cooking… this is too… English” Matt whispered to him, both of them laughed a bit.

“Do you think we could ask for something spicier in the kitchens… if we find them? I mean the food is good… but yeah… too bland for me…”

“We can try. Later.”

Smiling to each other, Harry and Matt continued enjoying, if relatively, the feast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for the comments in the previous chapters, Harry is now in Ravenclaw.  
> What do you think of my OC Matt?


	10. First Day at School

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Harry's first day at Hogwarts.  
> Not everything goes well, there is something wrong with Professor Squirrel.   
> And he can't understand what could he have ever done to Professor Snape.

After the welcoming feast, the houses retired to their relative dormitories.

The Ravenclaw’s common room and dormitories where on the second highest tower of Hogwarts, and the only way to access the common room was through a magically enchanted knocker that asked riddles.

The one it had asked this time had been: “I follow your for most of your life, through the day I can be behind you, by your side or in front of you, what am I?”

The prefect had asked if someone of them wanted to try to answer, and Harry had volunteered. “A shadow” he answered, the eagle shaped knocker nodded, and the wall moved away so that they could enter.

The common room had a distinct classical, almost Greek feel to it. And it was very spacious, with bookshelves propped against some of the marbled walls, a charmed fire burned blue inside the fireplace and there were some plush looking couches in blue with bronze colored decorations put around it. The view from the windows was breathtaking, with the miles of the Forbidden Forest extending for what seemed to be for ever, and a glance of the sparkling water of the Black Lake.

Harry felt amazed and at home at the same time in the elegant common room.

A fter the introduction speech made by their Head of House, Professor Flitwick, the Charm professor, they retired to their dorms. 

Luckily Matt and Harry ended up sharing a room, with two other first years, a pair of twins, named Erik and Constance Lawrence.

  
Their room was spacious enough that all of them had a personal desk near their beds, which were canopy beds.

After a quick ‘Goodnight’ the four Ravenclaws went to bed, Harry kept the tie-pin with him, so to feel calmer in knowing that Mr. Alastor was only at the distance of a whisper. He fell asleep, with the comforting warmth of the pin in his hands, unknown to him two of Mr. Alastor’s shadows oozed out of the pin, keeping guard of his bed.

Alastor didn’t trust these wizards’ wards or what else not even a little, if they couldn’t keep him out, they couldn’t protect Harry enough.

Just before the boys awoke the shadows slipped back in the tie-pin. Harry woke soon after the last shadow had gone back to its master, after leaving the bed, he took one of his suits from the trunk and went in to the bathroom connected to their room to prepare himself for the day, soon the others did the same.

Once ready Harry put on the cloak, he and Matt talked a bit with Erik and Constance while going down in the common room, where the prefects gave them the time schedules for their classes.

After that the House of Ravenclaw went as one, like a conspiracy of ravens, to the Great Hall for breakfast.

“So why do you dress up in a suit instead of with the robes?” Erik asked him while the four of them sat down in their house table, for breakfast.

Harry shrugged “It’s what I’m used to and honestly I prefer being overdressed than under-dressed in any circumstance.”

“Your Guardian?” Matt asked as he looked through the many serving plate that had just appeared on the table.

  
The only answer Harry gave to him was a smirk, he would have said a bit more but he noticed that the attention of most first years were on him, and even if he wasn’t sure that the one around him had been some of the ones that had called Mr. Alastor a ‘creature’ or a ‘monster’ just the night before, he didn’t felt inclined to talk about him with them listening.

Soon the four started chatting of other things over their breakfast, Harry choose for himself a serving of black pudding, though he didn’t find it as tasty as the one Mr. Alastor prepared, some eggs and a glass of pumpkin juice just to try it.  He found it too sweet for his tastes and decided to go back to normal apple or orange juice after he finished his glass.

“We seriously need to find the kitchens” Harry said to Matt after breakfast had ended, and the first years started walking towards their class for History of Magic with the Slytherins.

“Ay, I don’t think, I can ‘andle this kind of cooking for the rest of the year, either” 

Harry just nodded.

“It isn’t _that_ bad” Erik said, butting in their conversation 

“Yeah, our family house elves do better than Hogwarts’ but I agree with my brother here” Constance added.

“Well try growin’ up wit’ Cajun food and then tell me if you can ‘andle this kind of food after” Matt answered.

“I didn’t even realize that some English food was so bland until I met my Guardian, his cooking is the best” Harry said.

  
“’ Bet the Bayou Demon makes a mean jambalaya, doesn’t he?” Matt asked, Erik and Constance gave them a strange look at hearing the word ‘demon’.

  
This time Harry let the ‘demon’ thing slide, since he understood that Matt didn’t mean any insult with that it was only how he was used to call Mr. Alastor. “He  _does_ !  His jambalaya packs quite the punch, it’s practically hotter than a Hellfire.”  
  
“It mus’ be delicious.” Matt said, Harry nodded energetically in in response to the other. 

“Hm… what is a ‘ _jambalaya_ ’?” Erik asked, timidly, because of his lack of knowledge, interrupting the both of them.

Harry and Matt looked at each other with comically wide eyes, and then started explaining at the two Lawrence about the wonders of Cajun cuisine. 

When the two finished their discourse, they had basically arrived at the classroom and had made their classmates hungry again, and this time for plates they hadn’t even ever tasted.

After the two hours had passed, turned out that a lesson made from a ghost professor was quite boring, and Harry had found himself almost dozing off more than once, getting waken up by his scar warming, probably Mr. Alastor trying to keep him awake, if just to not make him get the reputation of  someone that fell asleep during class.

In the end Harry decided to just read the book for History of Magic tuning off Professor Blinns’ voice, Matt that was sitting near him did the same, check up once in a while to be sure that they didn’t miss the end of class because they had focused too much on the book.

After History of Magic they had Herbology with Hufflepuff, and that lesson went much quickly since it was very engaging and then DADA with Gryffindor, which while it was interesting, and it had been a good way to meet back with Neville, had left the classroom feeling unsettled.   
There was something strange with Professor Quirrel, for something seemed to call to him and repel him back at the same time, and while he couldn’t feel the warmth of his tie-pin he was sure that Mr. Alastor had felt his uneasiness because he had almost heard static coming out of the tie-pin which he hadn’t even thought possible.

“’re you alright, buddy?” Matt asked him as they left the class,

“Yeah, you do look a bit pale, Harry, do… you want to go to the medical wing?” Constance said.

Harry shacked his head “It’s just the garlic smell probably, it caused me a headache”, he didn’t know why he lied, but he didn’t felt to tell his friends what had happened, just yet, he wanted to be sure that it wasn’t a one time thing… and to talk about it with Mr. Alastor first.

“You sure you aren’t a vampire, Harry?” Erik asked jokingly, though he did look a bit nauseated after leaving the class.

  
“Could ask the same to you, Erik.” Harry joked back.

The four boys laughed a bit as they followed, after Harry and Matt had  quickly said goodbye to Neville, the rest of their year.

The last lesson they had for the day was Potions with Hufflepuff.   
Harry was a bit excited for the lesson, since Mr. Alastor had talked about potion making extensively with him. It was one of his favorite magical applications apparently.   
So Harry couldn’t wait for his first Potion lesson!

* * *

Severus Snape was just, to use a euphemism, a bit on edge. Between discovering Dumbledore lies, ‘ _the boy is safe_ ’, ‘ _He is were I left him_ ’, ‘ _No need to worry his relatives are taking care of him_ ’, lies that had shattered the  fifteen of July, in the moment the Daily Prophet had arrived with a new front article, titled: ‘

_**HAS HARRY POTTER TURNED DARK  
The Boy-Who-Lived seen in Diagon Alley with ** _ _**a yet unidentified** _ _**creature by his side.** _ ’

A moving photo just under the title, Severus had recognized Potter immediately he looked just like his father, but what had worried him was the blurred figure that walked with him. It was difficult for people or even creatures to interfere with magical photographs so, seeing that was already worrying enough but what was even more worrying, had been what could be seen through the blur, for the figure by Potter’s side, changed quickly, one moment was a humanoid beast with what looked like the skull of a deer as it’s face, and a moment after a human-looking person with antlers on his head, its features too blurred to make up anything that wasn’t its wide smile that showed sharp looking teeth, like those of a shark.

After he had confronted the Headmaster with the proof from the article in hand, he had saw Dumbledore frown, telling him that he hadn’t seen nothing different from his various scans and instruments that controlled what was going on in the place Harry Potter had lived for the past eleven years.

“This is a most troubling development, Severus.” Dumbledore had said after some moments of silence “If this creature had been able to stay unnoticed until now, and has been with Harry… who knows what it could have done to the boy.” For just a moment Severus had seen regret in Dumbledore’s eyes. “We’ll have to keep an eye on Harry when he arrives in Hogwarts”

“You told me he was safe, and now you tell me you don’t know what this… _thing_ could have done to him?”  


“You have still your magic, don’t you Severus?” Dumbledore had asked, to which Severus had immediately tried casting a _lumos_ it worked. “The boy must not have been in to much danger from the creature then… but we don’t know how it could have twisted him.” 

Then the start of the term came, and Potter was there, he stood out from the crowd, because he didn’t wore robes but a red tinted muggle suit, in an old-fashioned stile, with just the standard cloak of the school uniform over it, and a gray bow-tie with what appeared like a strange glowing pin on it. Potter seemed almost normal, chatting with some other boys, one of which was his godson, Draco Malfoy, he didn’t seem scared or that different from the others around him.

That impression though changed as he made his way over to be sorted. Potter walked with the same confidence of a man in power, and even if he walked like he owned the castle, Potter didn’t seem at all like his father.  No he looked like someone else...

Then with his blood freezing in his veins he remembered who Potter reminded him of.

  
_H_ _e looked like the Dark Lord._

He had the same confidence, and a soft, yet charming smile on his lips, his eyes shimmering like the death curse.

  
And Severus had to suppress the urge to check his mark, to see if it was still faded; he almost failed resisting when the hat took almost two full minutes to sort the boy, dreading that it was going to shout ‘ _Slytherin_ ’ then it would be confirmed… for he knew that the Dark Lord wouldn’t bother to go to another House instead of  _his_ .

But the hat had shouted: ‘Ravenclaw’ and he had felt less panicked.

Now though, knowing that he had to face those shimmering green eyes, that maybe looked like Lily’s once, but not now… now looked like the death curse was trapped behind his eyes.

* * *

Harry’s enthusiasm for the class had faded as soon as the Professor had stopped giving his introductory speech. Professor Snape was too cold… he didn’t look like he was going to be strict but fair as Mr. Alastor was.

The Professor called everyone of them one by one, and stopped for a bit when he said his name, looking like he was going to sn eer at him, but stopping before he did that. He moved his gaze from him as if he couldn’t even look at him.  
  
_Had he done something wrong? Had he somehow offended the Professor? No, he hadn’t done nothing, just wrote his notes as all of his classmates had done. Then what…?_

The class passed slowly, but with nothing too particular happening after that.

“Well it was disappointing” Harry said while they went back to the Great Hall for dinner.

“You tell me, buddy. Professor Snape didn’t look at ya for the entire lesson” Matt said “And when he did he looked like you ‘ad killed his parrot!”

Harry looked at his friend confused. “Why would he have a parrot?”

Matt smiled “Dunno, a bat seem’d too obvious”

Harry laughed at that. “Thanks, Matt. I needed that”

  
“You’re welcome, buddy!”

After the Ravenclaws sat at their table for dinner, there was quite the chat in between the first years all lamenting because they couldn’t taste anything from the wonderfully spicy plates that Matt and Harry had told them about.

From the staff table, Dumbledore looked attentively at Harry Potter, worry clear in his blue eyes. He just hoped he hadn’t made another terrible error as he had done with  _Tom Riddle_ .


	11. Give it Back!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville tells Harry that Draco has taken something of Neville’s.  
> And Harry doesn’t like it at all.

Harry, Matt and the Lawrence twins where in the library, they didn’t have homework yet, but were reworking their notes, especially those from History of Magic, since they were basically learning the subject all by themselves.

Harry had gotten a bit distracted, thinking about where he could go in the castle to not be seen when he called Mr. Alastor from the tie-pin, since he wanted to discuss with him what could have caused the strange sensation he had felt during the DADA class.

He was brought back to reality by Matt greeting Neville, the young Gryffindor walked to their group, joining in.

They talked a bit, about classes and discovered that Professor McGonagall had already given homework even in her first class, so Neville had to work to his Transfiguration’s essay.

“How was your first Flying lesson?” Erik asked. Since the first hour the Gryffindor had had that day was Flying, while the Ravenclaw had started with Herbology.

“… Not the best.” Neville responded “I lost control of my broom… luckily Ron was there to help me”

The four boys grimaced a bit, at the unluckiness that seemed to follow Neville. “Well at least, it didn’t go that bad…”

Neville nodded. “Though, Malfoy took my remember-ball, you know the thing that Gran sent me this morning at breakfast. And he still hasn’t given it back.”

Harry looked at his friend. “I’ll get it back for you.”

“uh…? No need Harry seriously…”

“I’ll get it back. _I don’t like thieves_.” He said, vaguely noticing that his voice had lowered again, unsettling his friends a bit. They always looked unsettled when his smile got thin or his voice low.

“T-Thanks…” Neville said nervously.

Harry smiled to his friend. “No problem, Nev!”

\---

Harry had to wait until after lunch to get to talk with Draco. He said gave a little wave to his friends before nearing the Slytherins.

“Malfoy, I’ve something to tell you, can we speak… alone?”

“Why do you need to speak to him alone, Potter?” Asked a girl, before Draco could even open his mouth.

“Don’t worry, Pansy. It’s okay.” Draco answered to her.

Harry smiled, sweet but slightly too wide, not that someone who didn’t know Mr. Alastor could get that this wasn’t the good kind of smile.

He brought Draco into a mostly hidden corner the corridor near the Great Hall.

“So… what did you want to talk about, Potter?”  
  


“Neville told me you took his remember-ball this morning.” Harry said simply.

Draco smirked. “So? Is Longbottom that much of a coward that he had to send you to get his things back?”

“No, Malfoy, I volunteered.” Harry said “Because, you have to know, I really, really dislike when people take things that are not theirs”

“Well, he left it fall to the ground, so I don’t have to give it back”

Harry looked down at Draco, even though the other boy was taller than him, his smile thin and his eyes shimmering with the light of the killing curse, the red glow of his tie-pin giving a false shade of red over part of his irises. “ _Give. It. Back. Malfoy._ ” Harry said, his voice low, almost hissing in a snake like fashion, since he couldn’t static-hiss.

The shadows around them appeared to darken, and Harry almost got distracted by that. _Was… Mr. Alastor calling his shadows to help him?_

Draco paled, nodding “O-Okay, I’ll give it back…”  


Just as quickly as the shadows had darkened, they faded. Harry smiled at him widely “Wonderful!” he exclaimed in a very Mr. Alastor fashion “Let’s go to Neville then, so you can give him his remember-ball and apologize!”

Draco nodded again, following silently the now happily smiling ravenclaw back to the Great Hall.

There Harry called his Gryffindor friend, and Draco gave him the remember-ball back, fumbling an apology while looking at Potter in the corner of his vision, remaining tense and scared until the other boy had nodded smiling at him.

* * *

“How did you manage _that_?” Neville asked him, while putting the object in the pocket of his robe.

“A bit of persuasion” Harry said with a smile.

“’re you sure you didn’t threaten ‘im or somethin’?” Matt said, while still looking at the pale Slytherin that now was trying to get his friends out of the Great Hall so that they didn’t try to come over and cause a scene.

“No threatening, just talking.” Harry answered

“Well then you mus’ be quite the sweet talker to get Malfoy to give the thing back…”

Harry shrugged, he and his friends, Neville too since they had DADA with Gryffindor again after lunch, started walking out of the Great Hall. “I learned from the best.”

“Your Guardian?” Neville asked. He was curious about Harry’s Guardian, to be honest _everyone_ in the Wizarding part of England was curious about who Harry’s Guardian was.

__

__

“Yep, him. He could charm a bee into giving him its stinger, honestly. I’m not that good.” Harry answered.

__

__

And his words weren’t that…  _reassuring_ .  _Well, probably Harry didn’t mean anything with that simile, but if he did… Harry’s Guardian was really able to get someone to give him their life?_

__

Has Neville thought about this. 

__

Harry and Matt had started talking again,  laughing at the expense of Malfoy’s terrified face. The eye in Harry’s strangely shaped tie-pin was glowing more than usual, and almost rhythmically,  _did that mean something?_   
  
“Everything okay, Nev?” 

__

__

“Uh, yes.. why?”

__

__

“Nuthin’ you were jus’ spacing out… So, it’s everything good?” 

__

__

Neville nodded. “Only one thing… Harry?”  


__

“Yes?”

__

__

“Why is your tie-pin doing that glowing at random thing?” 

__

__

Harry looked down at his tie-pin immediately as he said that, the glow stabilized after only an instant. “It does that sometimes, never happened at Hogwarts before, though.”

__

__

The boys nodded.

__

__

Soon after they reached the class so they couldn’t talk much.

__

__

__

__

Harry was taking notes, while listening to Professor Quirrel explanation but without looking at him, bothered again by that same strange sensation, he felt the day before.  Then the Professor started asking hypothetical questions to them, like: what would they do in a duel against a more, or a less experienced wizard or if they found themselves in front of a magical creature.

__

__

“M-Mr. P-Potter”  


__

“Yes, sir?” Harry answered without looking the professor in the eyes.

__

__

“Hypothetically… W-What would you do if you found yourself against another w-wizard without your wand?” 

__

__

Harry thought a bit about it, of course his first idea was to call Mr. Alastor’s name, but he couldn’t answer that so he thought a bit more. “Well, it depends, Professor. I think that I would most provably run, but if the wizard had cast ‘ _expelliarmus_ ’ and had my wand, I’d not leave it to him. So I think I’d go about the muggle way of fighting.”

__

__

“That is awfully Gryffindor, Mr. Potter” the man answered, for the first time without stuttering any of the words. His proclamation though caused some whispers about ‘ _unfairness_ ’ and ‘ _what’s wrong with being brave_ ’ from the Gryffindor side of the class.

__

__

“Never said I’d fight them fair and square, Professor. That wouldn’t be smart, especially if they are bigger or stronger than me.”

__

__

Professor Quirrel smirked in an undefinable way. “Five points to Ravenclaw, that was a well thought answer. Though, I suggest you that the best course of action when you are disarmed, and without your wand, is always to run.” 

__

__

Harry nodded, though he didn’t agree. He wouldn’t leave his wand in the hands of others no matter what.

__

__

Some minutes after that session of questions-and-answers, the lesson ended.

__

__

“Mate that was strange.” Harry heard somebody say, from the Gryffindors as they left the class. “I thought his stuttering was bad… but when he doesn’t stutter he is _even worse_. He gets… _creepy_.” 

__

Harry nodded slightly at those words, even without knowing who had said that.

__

__

“We’ll see each other in the library after Charms. Bye, Neville.” He and Matt said goodbye to Neville has they and the rest of their year went to Charm’s classroom. 

__

The class was taught by their Head of House so Harry was really curious of how the half-goblin taught, he seemed really energetic so his classes should be interesting.

__

Plus he couldn’t wait to finally have a class in which he could use his wand,

__

__

The class was as interesting has Harry had thought, and Professor Flitwick had quite a way with teaching, making interesting even the continues repetitions of the pronunciation of the spells.

__

__

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ” Harry said, softly his voice just above a whisper, he didn’t like shouting his spells like many other of his classmates. The spell worked almost immediately, he had already tried this at the house with Mr. Alastor, covering the feather in a red glow as it levitated. 

__

__

“Well done, Mr. Potter!” Professor Flitwick exclaimed. “Ten point to Ravenclaw to Mr. Potter for being the first to successfully cast the spell.” Than the half-goblin neared his desk, looking curiously at the glow around the floating feather. “This is interesting. Is your wand made with a type magical wood?” the Professor asked him.

__

__

“It is. How did you know, Professor?”  


__

The half-goblin smiled pointing at the feather. “Magical woods tends to influence the color of the spells”

__

__

“Oh, I didn’t know that. None of the books I read talked about it.”

__

__

“I can suggest some readings if you are interested, Mr. Potter. As long as it doesn’t distracts you too much from your studies.”

__

__

“I’d like to, Professor. And I will keep an eye on that.”

__

  
Professor Flitwick smiled than turned his attention back to the rest of the class.

__

__

“You’ll let me ‘ave a look at those books, right?” Matt asked, trying the spell again, his feather floated a bit and the fell back down on his desk.

__

__

“Of course.” Harry answered “About the spell, I can give you some pointers if you want.”

__

__

“Ay, please. This thing doesn’t want to float and I dunno what ‘m doing wrong.”

__

__

And so Harry helped his friend to successfully cast the spell, not noticing the strangely cautious glances that Draco, and his friends sent towards him.

__

__


	12. An unwanted surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Halloween, there is a troll and Harry almost gets hurt.  
> Alastor isn’t very happy with Hogwarts’ Headmaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little warning for this chapter, there is blood and gore and quite a bit of violence.

Quickly the days turned into weeks and between lessons and homework, and talking with friends. September had ended and October had started, passing as quickly as the hours during interesting lessons.

Though Harry was still disappointed that he hadn’t find a place in which he could hide to talk with Mr. Alastor.

Quickly the end of October arrived, and Halloween with it.

Harry wasn’t that psyched with the celebratory feast, organized for the night. But not for the reasons people thought. He wasn’t sad for the fact that this was the anniversary of his parent’s deaths, he didn’t remember them, of course he was sad that he hadn’t had the chance to know them, but what made him sad was the fact that he couldn’t celebrate it with Mr. Alastor.

That this Halloween he couldn’t help Mr. Alastor prepare cush-cush (which was a basic corn meal dish, to which one could had anything they wanted, Mr. Alastor always added to his bacon and Tabasco, Harry preferred milk and sugar syrup), and during the afternoon they prepared little bouquets of wild flowers and herbs, since they couldn’t prepare exactly to clean and take care of the tombs of their beloved ones who had passed away (Mr. Alastor because he wasn’t sure if his dear mother’s grave still stood where he remembered and Harry because he didn’t know where they were) so they made the bouquets as substitutes, so that the spirits of their loved ones knew they were thinking of them.  
And during those times Mr. Alastor told him about his mother, about how sweet and caring she was, about how she took care of him. And Harry listened, and reminisced with Mr. Alastor, about the kind woman who was looking at them from the heavens.

But he couldn’t do this, this year and that filled him with sadness.

His classmates mostly left him alone, and Matt kept him company though as the others he mistook his sadness for something connected to his parents.

The Halloween feast was grand, and filled with many sweets and delicious plates, but Harry still missed the simplicity of the home-made dinner he and Mr. Alastor shared.

Then the moment was interrupted by Professor Quirrel running into the Great Hall yelling:“There is a troll in the dungeons! A troll in the dungeons, I… told you” before fainting.

Panic immediately filled the Great Hall, the happiness from the holiday gone.

Harry felt his scar burn up, the tie-pin was probably burning hot at the moment.

The Headmaster sent them to their dormitories, thought the Slytherin and Hufflepuff remained in the Great Hall, since their dorms were in the dungeons, where the troll supposedly was.

_Supposedly_ , because while they were trying to get to the staircases, they ended up in the path of the creature that should have been in the dungeons.

Which was tall almost reaching the ceiling, incredibly ugly and angry.

Harry took Matt by the collar of his shirt, bringing him out of the way, as the troll moved his arms, his friend had been to paralyzed in his shock, and Harry didn’t even want to think of what could have happened if he hadn’t been quick enough to bring Matt out of the way of the beast.

His classmates were yelling scared, the troll grunting and moving and… _there wasn’t enough space,_ the beast was always too close even if he and Matt were practically pressed against the wall, their breaths heavy with panic and terror. Harry didn't know what to do, _he didn’t know_...! One of the beast hands moved over him, so close that he had felt the air move over his head.  
  
_What could he do...?_

  
_What...!-_

“Alastor!” He screamed in fear, red smoke left the eye of the tie-pin under the shocked, panicked eyes of his classmates. And then the smoke was gone but Mr. Alastor was there.

His eyes burning with fury and protectiveness and a hint of blood-lust.

“It’s okay, it’s okay… Mr. Alastor will protect us” Harry whispered to his friends, to the rest of his peers that where close enough to hear him.

“I do not like it, when _things_ threaten my charge safety” Mr. Alastor growled, static heavy in his voice, as he charged towards the beast. His antlers growing and sharpening, his eyes red as blood freshly spilled, his smile turned into an unnatural looking smiling snarl.

Mr. Alastor avoided the troll’s heavy but slow attacks, jumping and moving in the air as if he were dancing, slashing the beast’s thick skin with his razor sharp claws, angry enough that he wanted to personally end the creature life instead of using his shadows.

Most of the children ran away as soon as the troll was distracted but not Harry, or his friend, that was still gripping his arm with his hands scared.

They looked still in shock for the fear, as Mr. Alastor slowly ripped the beast apart, painting the stone walls with foul smelling blood.

The troll bellowed trying still to hit Mr. Alastor with what was left of its hands, Mr. Alastor static-hissed still smiling-snarling, lowering his head, ramming against the troll midsection, goring it, tearing apart its rocky skin as if it was made of paper.

And it was then that the Professors and Headmaster arrived, as Mr. Alastor was gutting the beast after having opened its bloated stomach with his antlers. And only when the enormous beast stopped breathing and collapsed, Mr. Alastor stopped attacking it. Ignoring the wizards on the entryway of the corridor, to go to Harry. Kneeling down in the blood so that they could be eye-to-eye, his grayish skin covered with thick streaks of dark blood.

“Dear, are you alright?” He asked, the static fading until it was at its normal volume.

“Yes, I… I thought… It almost ki- Matt almost got hit by…I... it almost grabbed me... I...-” Harry fumbled with his words “I was so afraid!” He said, almost yelled, suddenly hugging Mr. Alastor not caring for the blood and gore and shredded flesh that was on him. _He.. needed to feel safe, he…_

Mr. Alastor hugged him back. “Hush, you are safe, darling. I am here.” he muttered softly, caressing Harry’s hair even though the only think that he ended up doing was flattening them with his blood covered hands. But he didn’t know what else he could do, he’d never seen Harry so scared, so terrified before… and for the first time in his long life, since he had got the title of Radio Demon, Alastor didn’t like to see fear, especially not on that face. He didn’t like it at all.

So he hugged Harry, he hugged him tightly whispering to him the same words his mother told him when he had been attacked by a hunting dog.

“Hush, ma dear. Ya’re alrigh’, sha. ‘m ‘ere.” he whispered not even trying to rein his accent as he normally did, not caring enough to do so.

Harry cried almost silently against his shoulder, his back shacking slightly. As soon as the boy calmed down, still hugging him, Alastor turned towards the Headmaster, and his staff, who looked terrified, horrified.

But for once he didn’t care, he didn't feel any satisfaction in seeing that horror. No, he cared only about that man, that Dumbledore who had put his charge, _his Harry_ , at risk. So, looking the man in the eyes, he growled: “We have to talk. _Now_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter is short, the next will be longer, don't worry.
> 
> Also I made a fanart on how I imagine my Harry looking, you can se it [**here**](https://alexanderwesker.tumblr.com/post/630888971389599744/harry-from-my-harry-potterhazbin-hotel-crossover)


	13. The Deal with the Overlord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore realizes that the creature that has taken the mantle of Harry’s Guardian, is not only dark but insanely powerful. And worst of all it seems hellbent into protecting Harry from any harm.

Albus Dumbledore had lived a long life, he had seen lots of things: the death of his Sister, the war against Gellert and the massacres that he had caused thanks to his little Obscurial, the horrors of the war with Voldemort, for he was even more unhinged than Gellert. 

Albus had seen many things but never in his life he had ever felt a terror so chilling and deep, as the one he felt when his eyes met the red glowing eyes of the creature that had decided to become Harry Potter’s Guardian.

There was something in that being that sparkled bone-chilling fear, right from the depths of his soul. Albus looked deep inside those eyes, trying to use his legilimency to try and look what the being was thinking, the only thing that the old wizard managed to see was… _blood and carnage_ , earsplitting screams and pleads for mercy that went to deaf ears… and a laugh so vile and sadistic that made Albus feel pure horror as he pushed out of that beastly violent mind.

“We need to talk. _Now_.” the creature growled, keeping Harry pressed tightly against its chest, lifting him up with ease, when it got up. Its clawed hands, covered in dark blood gripping the boy in an almost _possessive_ fashion.

Dumbledore felt the instinct to try and pull Harry away from the creature, nothing good could came from the _possessveness_ of creature with such twisted mind. Harry was still slightly trembling in the being hold, still shaken by the troll attack, which admittedly made Dumbledore feel guilty for not having reinforced Hogwarts wards, but there was still something that unsettled him, the fact that Harry had thrown himself to the creature, not caring about its gory appearance like it didn’t disturb him.

“Of course, we can talk into my office, if you would let Professor Flitwick take Harry to-”  


“Harry is not going anywhere out of my sight. He is coming with me, unless you want to talk here.” the creature interrupted him, the radio like static behind its voice growing.

“I understand, but there are rules that Mr. Potter has to follow here, Mr…”

“Overlord Alastor of the Third and Seventh Circles. And I am Harry’s Guardian, he is not going against any of your ‘rules’ as long as he is with me” 

‘ _Overlord_?’ Albus had never heard such title, though the following part had left him perplexed, there were only one kind of Circle to be so strictly numbered, but surely… a _demon_ couldn’t just walk on Earth, there must be some ways to impede that. Because if there weren’t _what was stopping the others from coming up?_

“I see, Lord Alastor.” Albus conceded, not wanting for the demon to be even more crossed with him than he already was, Overlord seemed an important title and that meant that the creature in front of them was powerful especially if it was controlling not one but two of the Circles of Hell.

“Mr. Alastor?” Harry mumbled, Albus almost didn’t hear him, so low was his voice.

“Yes, my dear?” 

“Can Matt come with us? I don’t want to leave him alone…” 

Lord Alastor smiled, almost, dare he say, softly to the boy in his arms. “Of course, he is your friend, is he not?”  
  
“He’s my best friend.” 

Then the demon, still bloodied and frankly terrifying turned to the other Ravenclaw, telling him to come near and follow them.

To his credit the other kid didn’t scream or run away at the sight of the creature, he just nodded at it, looking pointedly at his still shocked but now almost smiling friend.

Then it turned back to him, staring with its blood red eyes, almost daring him to bring up the rules again. 

Albus didn’t.

Asking instead the demon to follow him, deciding to ignore the fact that it didn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that it was covered in blood and flesh, or that that blood was sticking to Harry,  covering him as if he had helped his devilish Guardian killing the troll.

Albus gave only a reassuring glance to the other staff members that looked as if they were in a shell-shock at the sight of the carnage, all but Severus which instead seemed to be trying to keeping up his composure to not look like the others.

The walk to the office was silent, bar for the occasional sound of drops of blood falling to the stone floor. 

Albus hoped that the elves were fast enough in cleaning the blood, before it soaked in. Making the most ancient wards of Hogwarts active again, those were dark and he had put a lot of work in disabling them, even if he couldn’t dismantle them completely.

Lord Alastor put Harry down only when they got into the office, the boy was soaked in dark thickening blood, just as his Guardian.

\---

Harry had never quite felt Mr. Alastor so angry, his scar felt like it was burning, but it wasn’t hurting just a bit distracting. He took one of Matt’s hands in his, his friend looked up at him, and Harry smiled to him.  
They were alright, Mr. Alastor would be taking care of everything.

Mr. Alastor didn’t sit when Dumbledore asked him to, instead telling Harry that he and Matt could sit if they wanted. Harry took the offer immediately, not thinking, or maybe not caring to much about the blood that covered him, Matt didn’t seem to care either as he sat near him, so close that his robed arm was pressing against his, getting troll blood on his black robes.

Harry gripped Matt hand a bit tighter, and he heard Matt sigh a bit, the tension in his body fading if just a tad. It was clear that his friend was still scared. “Don’t worry Matt” Harry whispered “Mr. Alastor is here, we are the safest we could ever be”

Matt looked at him a bit strangely, then a barely there smile bent his lips. “Y’know, I believe you.”  He told him in a whisper.

“I am not here to tell you how I got through your weak wards.” Mr. Alastor said quite loudly, some of the trinkets on Headmaster Dumbledore’s desk were spinning uncontrollably, some almost writhing, the static filled the air, calming Harry even though it was getting louder and louder. “I am here to tell you that you have to do better. I have seen better wards in places were there shouldn’t be any that here, where they need to be!”

“Harry was perfectly safe, Lor-”  


“Safe? You call hiding from a mountain troll safe?” Mr. Alastor interrupted Dumbledore again, it was the second time he did that, which meant that he was really angry, for usually Mr. Alastor let people finish talking even when he considered their words utter nonsense. “He could have been hurt. And Lucifer help me, if even a hair from his head had been touched by that beast, I would have razed this pathetic place to the ground. And _I am more than capable to do it_.” 

The shadows started darkening, Mr. Alastor shadow got longer and darker faster than the others, raising from the ground, its eyes empty sockets bleeding bright neon, it mouth a sewn shut smile.

Harry felt Matt start trembling at the sight.

“Don’t worry, they wont do anything to us… in fact they are quite friendly, just scary looking.” He said in a whisper trying to reassure his friend.

“Is that a threat?”

“It is, I will not let any harm come to my charge or his friends. Not even a single scratch made with the intent to harm. And if I see any of you pathetic mortals try to hurt him directly or not, I will raise Hell on Earth, are we clear?”

“You’ve been crystal clear, Lord Alastor. But I think… yours is been a bit of an overreaction. Nobody got hurt-”  


“Because I was there. People could have been killed if Harry hadn’t called me” Mr. Alastor said, his shadows roaming the room, one of them looking curiously at an empty perch. In that moment a bird that looked like it was made of fire, zoomed from the opened window, it started singing, though its song sounded more like a shriek than a song.

  
Dumbledore looked at Mr. Alastor like he expected that he would start to scream or something similar. Instead Mr. Alastor snapped his fingers and a long tentacle made of darkness coiled around the bird-a phoenix if Harry recognized it right–and shut it up.

“I do not know what you are trying to obtain here. If it is angering me, it is working… and I assure you, _you will not like the result of it._ ” Mr. Alastor warned Dumbledore, his shadow tentacle tightening slightly around the phoenix that futilely tried to scratch or bite the oily appendage. 

“As I see it you have very limited options. Especially now that you have irritated me with your phoenix-up-the-sleeve trick” Mr. Alastor added “One: I could let this go, but if something similar happens again, I will destroy everything you have ever cared for starting from your little birdie here;” as he said that the tentacle tightened again making the phoenix shriek in pain “Two: I could not let this go and kill you right now; or three: I will let this go and no-one will get hurt now or in the future but only if I can stay by my charge side at anytime if I feel he is unsafe, and with that I mean even if I don’t like how someone is looking at him. What do you choose?”

Headmaster Dumbledore stayed in silence for a while,  looking alternatively from Mr. Alastor to his phoenix then back , then he sighed in defeat. “The third option seems the best, though I want your assurance that you will not harm any of the students, even if you don’t like how they are looking at Harry… they are just…  _children_ .”  
  
“Fine.  But if they try to hurt him, it’s on them. ” Then Mr. Alastor’s smile got wide and too sweet. “Do we have a _Deal_?”

The Headmaster seemed almost to look older now, less of a grand and powerful wizard and more of an old, tired man who had seen too many horrible things in his life.  
Harry almost felt pity for him, for how harshly Mr. Alastor was treating him, but only almost. If the man hadn’t put them at risk none of this would have happened so… really, it was Headmaster Dumbledore’s fault if he was in this situation.

“What will you get out of this deal?” the Headmaster asked.

“Not your soul if it’s what you are worried for, I do not like liars. I just want free access to the school grounds as long as my charge is here.”

“I‘m not a liar.”  
  
Mr. Alastor smiled but he didn’t say anything more apart from saying again: “So, Do _we_ have a Deal?”

“Yes, we have” The Headmaster answered, and after seeing the sharp smile of the demon he hoped he hadn’t made the _wrong choice_.


	14. The Troll Incident Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Halloween incident the House of Ravenclaw, still traumatized by the events, starts to grow closer.  
> Meanwhile rumors starts to spread around Hogwarts about what had happened.  
> What Harry’s Guardian had done and what exactly he is.   
> Some believe he is just a powerful creature, others think he is the Devil

After the Deal with the Headmaster, Mr. Alastor escorted them to the Ravenclaw tower. The Headmaster only asked him to not trail more gore into the corridors, and Mr. Alastor just snapped his fingers to clean the blood off of him and Harry, with a smirk, letting, in this way, Dumbledore know that he had  intentionally walked for almost half the castle covered in blood just to show his point. 

T hen he took Harry’s hand, and brought him and Matt back to the tower. Hogwarts’ magic warming up in his presence, humming distantly in a ‘thank you’ for the new magic, Mr. Alastor brought to the castle.

When Harry, Mr. Alastor and Matt arrived at the tower was twenty minutes after midnight, yet, as they entered they found the entire house of Ravenclaw still awake.

Some of the first years were in front of the fireplace, with blue blankets over their shoulders, huddling together, the higher years were around as well talking or hugging each others. As soon as they saw them, a good part of the first year rushed to mass hug them, their voices mixing up together as they said  _how worried they had been, and how scared… and how glad they were to see that they were fine_ .

Then they noticed the presence of Mr. Alastor, and made a step back, almost jumped back in seeing the seven feet tall man looking down on them, while keeping a clawed hand on Harry’s and one one Matt’s shoulder.

“No need to be scared, children. Unless you mean harm to my charge...”Mr. Alastor said, most of the people in the common room who didn’t got scared speechless by Mr. Alastor presence answered with rapid ‘No’s and those who couldn’t find their voices just shacked their heads. “Then we are alright.” he said, lifting his hands from their shoulders.

The House of Ravenclaw didn’t really sleep that night, everyone to shaken by the encounter with the angry troll. They mostly talked, and those who managed to fell asleep, feeling strangely safe under the red glowing eyes of the creature Guardian of the Boy-Who-Lived, woke up screaming after a few minutes of sleep.

Even days after the event, it wasn’t unusual to see, people awake way after the curfew, talking in the common room, or sharing a cup of hot chocolate that the house elves of Hogwarts had prepared for them. In fact it became such a common occurrence, that the Head of the House notified Snape and Madame Pomfrey so that they could prepare some Dreamless Potion for the worst chases. 

Mr. Alastor presence in the common room, in the meantime had become accepted even welcomed, for even if some of the children and teens that had seen a bit of how he killed the troll had nightmares about that, they felt safer in knowing that he was there.

But outside of Ravenclaw, rumors ran rampant through the school. There were people who claimed Harry had slayed the beast, and those who, rightly said, that it had been his Guardian. And it was about this last rumor that the most gossip was produced, for no-one exactly knew what Harry’s Guardian was so theories were created, some were so outlandish that most people didn’t even consider them.

The most accepted was that it was a creature, from some unplottable reserve, that for some unknown reasons had choose Harry, but there was another made by some muggleborns that came from a religious background that said that Harry’s Guardian was the Devil, and that that meant that Harry wasn’t trustworthy for only the evil and the twisted received the blessing of the Devil.

Mostly, Harry was unaware of this rumors, and so was the House of Ravenclaw that had wholeheartedly accepted Harry’s Guardian, as Acceptance was one of the key traits of Ravenclaw, together with Intelligence and Creativity.

* * *

It was after a lesson of History of Magic that Harry was made aware of the ‘Devil theory’ by a student of Gryffindor.

“You should repent” Had said a boy, that Harry had never met before. Interrupting the conversation he was having with friends.

“I’m sorry, what?” Harry asked.

  
“You should repent. Or you’ll taint us with you demonic affiliation.”

“Demonic…?” Then realization appeared to hit Harry, for his eyes widened slightly, he didn’t even notice his shadow–well technically was Mr. Alastor shadow, but it had merged with his to keep him safe everywhere– darken a bit. “Do you mean… are you trying to insult _my_ Guardian, _Gryffindor_?” 

“It’s not an _insult_!” the boy exclaimed “It’s the truth, for he has horns and fangs and claws, what do you need more to see what it is?”  


Harry rolled his eyes, as Matt snickered under his breath. “First his aren’t horns, they are antlers” He corrected the boy “Second he doesn’t have fangs and third… seriously, we live in a world were dragons, and goblins, and fairies are real, but you see someone with antlers and claws and you go screaming ‘Devil’? Don’t you realize how backwards your reasoning is?” 

Matt snickered louder, and Harry smiled.

The boy got angrier. “You are dark, you are tainted a worshiper of the Devil!”

This time most of the people around laughed, even the Gryffindor themselves, to the point that the boy shouted a ‘What are you all laughing at?’

“Well if the Devil was real, we’d all go to Hell” Harry said, in an almost semi-cruel way, most of the Ravenclaw recognized that tone since by now they knew a bit better Mr. Alastor to the point that they could see when Harry acted like him, “Since, you know, witchcraft is a sin”

The boy paled.

Harry laughed a bit. “What did you forget that?” Harry’s shadow faded back to normal, even if no-one had even notice it darken in the first place.

“C’mon, Harry, don’t be too ‘ard on the Gryffin” Matt said, but he didn’t look like he was really trying to rein in Harry, just to maintain the appearance that he was trying to.

“I wasn’t trying to be harsh with him, just reminding him that if the Devil was real he is destined to meet him anyways”

The boy paled further, his eyes filling with tears, then he pushed some of his housemates out of the way, running away.

Harry looked at his friends confused. “Did I say something wrong?”

“He didn’t took well ‘is truth when turned against ‘im…” 

“Of course you did!” said another Gryffindor, another muggleborn probably or a friend of the boy that had just ran away. “You told him that he was going to Hell!”

“Well, it’s true” Harry said calmly “If the Devil exists, then God should too… and in that case every single one of us is going downstairs in the Afterlife, God doesn’t like magic.”

“Yes but you didn’t have to tell him like that…”

“He was insulting my Guardian, sorry if I wasn’t that worried about his wellness… now sorry but we are almost late for Transfiguration.” Harry said turning away from the Gryffindors only after a “Bye, Neville see you in the library!”

And while they were walking some of the pureblood kids asked him what he and the two muggleborn were talking about so he explained to them.

Safe to say, they didn’t take it well either that the muggleborn Gryffindor had insinuated that Mr. Alastor was evil incarnate.

* * *

Slowly as the lessons were a bit boring today, the school day ended and since they had an hour or so free before dinner Harry asked Matt and the Lawrence twins if they wanted to come with him outside, since he was going for a walk near the banks of the Black Lake. Mr. Alastor with them since he could, and he wanted to see in first person the grounds of the school.

So the four boys and the being went. The air was chilled, which had sense since it was November, the wind smelling of rain and frost, the Black Lake was beautiful up close as it was in the distance, its onyx colored waters sloshed almost silently against the muddy banks that encircled it, sometimes it was, even, possible to glimpse a glimmer of sliver scales under the dark water, the air near the lake had the typical muddy smell that  equated all lakes.

T he boys talked between themselves while Mr. Alastor kept an eye on them with his shadows, as he looked into the murky black waters of the lake, they almost reminded him of his home in the bayou, though he hoped for Dumbledore’s sake that there weren’t any gators here, though we would have loved to see those big intelligent reptiles again.

“Do you think we can convince the house elves that come to the common room to prepare something in that cuisine you and Matt talked about for the feast?” Erik asked Harry,

Harry shrugged. “Maybe? I don’t know if they’ll listen to us, though.”

  
“Ay, maybe they’ll listen only to the ‘eadmaster, or sumthin’ like that” Matt agreed.

“Maybe… we can try though” Constance said.

They continued talking for a while barely noticing the fact that most of the other people outside that weren’t Ravenclaws appeared to be too scared to go near them.

“Do you think they’re scared of your Guardian?” Matt asked glancing at a Hufflepuff that basically changed the course of his walk just to not go near them.

“Probably… At least you guys, don’t find him scary anymore…”

“It’s not that we don’t find him scary” Constance said, looking at Mr. Alastor, that was walking dangerously close to the edge of the water of the Lake “It’s just that he is now familiar scary so… we don’t get so jumpy all the time.”  
  
“Oh…” Harry said looking down.

“Hey, Hey… don’t be like that, even if we are sometimes scared doesn’t mean why think of him like the others do. And I mean… he has basically seen I think everyone in Ravenclaw wake up screaming at least once since the whole ‘troll thing’ and he has helped more than even Professor Flitwick could, with his more than slightly threatening aura.”

Harry smiled softly at his friend. Then they heard a deep hiss, and the sound of sloshing water, their eyes shot to where Mr. Alastor was. Something was coming out of the water, it looked like a water soaked log with a snout and legs… and eyes and fangs… covered in algae and lichens.

  
“What do we have here?” Mr. Alastor asked rhetorically, nearing the thing that had just come out of the water. The thing hissed again, Mr. Alastor just smiled. “You are quite far from home, are you not?” Mr. Alastor let the thing smell his hand, before petting it in between the eyes.   
The thing stopped hissing making a strange sound, pressing against as if it was asking for more pets, before hissing again, but this time not threateningly, and going back into the water leaving behind a quite confused Mr. Alastor.

“Merlin’s beard!” Erik exclaimed all of a sudden. “I know that beast! It’s a Gemnon! They are endemic of Scotland, and one of their biggest family lives in the Black Lake, but they don’t like going out of the water, figures letting someone pet them… how… Wow!” 

“I do know my way around gators. So that was a magical ‘gator?” Said Mr. Alastor who had neared them.

Erik nodded “Yeah… they aren’t carnivores though! Or… well they _are_ carnivores but they can’t digest land animals. That’s why the family of Gemnon was left into its habitat..”  


“I see. Thank you for telling me.”  
  
“You are welcome, Mr. Alastor!” 

Only Harry and his four friends (Matt, Erik, Constance and Neville) was permitted to call the being Mr. Alastor all the others had to call him Lord Alastor. And truth be  told , Erik felt kind of privileged into having the permission to call such a powerful being, that was a Lord nonetheless, with something less than his formal title.

As the sun started to go down from the sky the boys and Mr. Alastor went back to the castle.

Not caring about the whispers around them or the stupid, unfounded rumors that were being told all around Hogwarts.


	15. Harry's Strange Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hogwarts’ rumor mill still goes rampant.  
> And Harry has a very strange day.

Harry had been sure that his day was going to be strange from the moment in which Professor Snape had given him fifteen points for his more-than-acceptable potion instead of the usual five points.

Then the following hour, that was DADA, had just cemented his idea, because Professor Quirrel straight up avoided looking at him even when asking him questions, though Harry, and the rest of Ravenclaw, weren’t that adverse to the twenty points that lesson earned them. 

Then at lunch, some mildly spicy plates appeared among the plates of typical British cuisine, of which Harry and Matt had been very happy about, though they didn’t find them spicy enough, but it was a start in the right direction so they didn’t complain. 

The Headmaster stared at Harry for almost all of the feast, creeping the boy out to the point that his shadow had actually risen from the ground taking the shape, if in a ghostly way, of Mr. Alastor. Harry noticed only when silence fell in the Great Hall, everyone looking, with various degrees of surprise and fear, at the ‘thing’ behind him. 

“It’s alright, don’t worry. I’m not in danger” Harry had said to the shadow, which tilted its head to the side, splashing a bit of bleeding neon on the table, luckily missing all the plates, the shadow then static-hissed something. And Harry just smiled at it. “Yes, I’m alright, really. Just a bit uncomfortable with the stare but nothing to worry about.”   
The shadow nodded and then faded back into his normal shadow. Quickly the Ravenclaw table resumed their chatting, now almost completely used to the slightly creepy occurences around Harry, to be put off by them for more than a few moments.

“So… you can understand what they said? It sounded like radio static to me.” Erik said, while eating his serving of the Hogwarts’ house elves version of a Gumbo. “Wow this… this is really good! Now I can understand why you guys missed it so much!”

“Yeah, it’s good but it still doesn’t taste completely right, the elves are trying though and that’s what matters.” Harry said “Oh, and yes, I can understand the ‘radio static’ quite well. My Guardian said it’s a rare ability…” he answered his friend question, Erik nodded on his face a bit of disappointment at the notion that Harry’s answer meant that he couldn’t learn how to understand that ‘language’.

“uhm, Harry?” Called a little, shy voice, Harry recognized it as Matilda Goldbloom, a second year girl that had helped them with a Charms essay.  
  
“Yes?” He said, smiling at the girl.

“This morning my mother sent me an amulet… she said it’s charmed to protect from and… dispel dark presences… so… uhm..”  


“Why…? Oh, don’t worry, Matilda, it wont bother my Guardian, if that’s what you are worried about.”

“It was. Thank you, Harry!”

Then Harry returned to his chat with his friends after a smile sent in the girl direction.

After lunch the third strange thing of the day happened, Harry and his friends were about to leave the Great Hall, to go in the library since they had three free time periods, to work on their homework, when they were stopped by Draco Malfoy and his group of friends.

“Yes, Malfoy?” Harry said pleasantly, in that way that his friends had started to call ‘cold politeness’.

“I… I wanted to ask if… you wanted to… start again? I realized I’ve been a bit unfair with you, and I wanted to, uhm, have another chance in being your friend…” Draco said, uncharacteristically shy, almost fumbling his words. Harry couldn’t stop but wonder if it was because he had actually scared him that time, months ago.

“You want to be my friend?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow, as if questioning the sincerity of Draco’s question. The Slytherin nodded. “Alright, but I will give you a chance, but insult, sneer, or otherwise harm my friends, and _you will regret it_. Alright?”

“A-Alright, Potter…”

“Brilliant! Then we have a deal, Draco” he said, smirking slightly at the way Malfoy flinched when he said the word ‘deal’, wizard didn’t seem to like deal-making, and deal-maker beings or other wizards. Harry noticed.

Malfoy nodded. “Yes, we… have, Ha-Harry” 

Harry smiled. “Good. Now, we are going to the library, want to join us? I think you have a free time period too, now.”

“I have, and… I’d like to join you in the library.”  
  
“Wonderful! Then let’s go, we have a one foot essay to write for Charms and it’s not gonna write by itself!” 

* * *

Draco wasn’t sure that he had made the right choice, but it definitely was better than remaining possible enemies with someone who was very much powerful. Especially with a Guardian that, if the rumors were right and they most certainly were since Harry’s Guardian had been seen walking through the castle, had been able to force Dumbledore in doing what it wanted.

Nobody had been able to force Dumbledore in doing anything, not even the Ministry. For Merlin’s sake even the Dark Lord was too scared of Dumbledore to attack him outright! But Harry’s Guardian, what ever it was, had been able too. And if this didn’t make clear how powerful the being was,  _Draco didn’t know what could_ .

It had made Dumbledore bent to its wishes, so Draco didn’t want it to be crossed with him because he had irritated its charge.

Which was what had brought him to ask Harry to try again to be friends. And of course the charge of a deal-maker would know to not take promises at face value… so Harry had turned his question into a Deal, Draco really hoped that Harry’s price wasn’t too high, he really hoped so.

“Draco?” Harry’s voice brought him back to reality, the boy with death green eyes was staring at him.

“Yes?”

“You have been staring at the same phrase for the past… two minutes, there is something wrong?”

“No, no” Draco quickly said, putting the Defense Against the Dark Arts book down on the table. “I’m just memorizing the definition… you know how demanding, Professor Quirrel is those rare times he doesn’t stutter.”

Harry nodded.

“Tell me about it… ‘e made me repeat the entire definition o’ the differences between ‘exes, jinks and light curses” the half-blood said, Matt… Hethe if Draco remembered right.

“Plus he gets creepy when he is like that”

“Yeah, his all demeanor changes like… he is another person altogether” the Lawrence twins added.

Harry nodded at his friends. “Well more reasons to not get Professor Quirrel angry, he gets all ‘demanding and creepy’ when he gets really angry”

The four boys nodded, and then went back to their homework. Mr. Alastor’s shadow keeping a close eye on them, especially after noticing a certain DADA teacher listening in on the boys conversation from the entrance of the library.

* * *

The fourth strange thing that happened that day, was soon after Charms lesson. When Professor Flitwick asked Harry to stay behind, since he had something to tell him. Turns out that Professor Quirrel had asked the Head of Ravenclaw to tell Harry if tomorrow he could stay after class to discuss his essay, since, apparently, the DADA Professor had found many interesting points to talk about in his work.

Harry had nodded to Professor Flitwick and then basically ran to the common room, under the confused and concerned looks of his friends, to go and talk with Mr. Alastor.

Mr. Alastor immediately left the tie-pin as soon as Harry entered the common room, none of the Ravenclaw appeared even surprised to see the man in red there, now used to his presence.

“If you want, I will come to this ‘meeting’ after class with you, dear.” Mr. Alastor offered, after putting up a little privacy ward so that they couldn’t be overheard by anyone.

“I’d like to.” Harry answered immediately “I don’t want to be alone with him. He… _unsettles_ me.”

Mr. Alastor nodded. “You will not be alone, I will be by your side, in flesh and blood not only with my shadows.” 

Harry thanked his Guardian, then looked down to the marbled floor for a moment. “ Do you think he wants to… harm me or I’m seeing to much in it?”

“To be honest, I do not know, nor I care if he does not, I will be there with you and he has to accept it.” Mr. Alastor said “I value more your wellbeing, be it physical or mental, than even his _life_. You should know this by now, my dear.”

“I know. I’m just worried.”

“There is no need to, Harry”


	16. Crimson Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain Dark Lord discovers that there are things more terrifying than   
> Dumbledore, and decides to change his approach with his ‘enemy’

Harry had been worried all day for the meeting with Professor Quirrel, and his worry had only got worse during the last lesson of the day which was DADA.

His tie-pin glowed brightly for the entirety of the lesson, showing that Mr. Alastor was quite angry with the man for having got Harry so worried and almost scared for the day.

“Do you want us to wait for you, outside?” Constance asked. Harry shacked his head.  
  
“No need, you guys can go to dinner. My Guardian will be here soon” He said reassuring his friends that nodded, and left the classroom knowing that their friend was more than safe.

As soon as the door of the classroom closed, leaving Harry ‘alone’ with the Professor, a red mist left the tie-pin fading soon after leaving Mr. Alastor standing near Harry, his smile wide and slightly terrifying, his eyes glowing menacingly.

Professor Quirrel paled at the sight of him, muttering something indistinguishable under his breath, before raising from his chair, trying to put a pleasant smile on his face, but it couldn’t hide the fear and worry that Mr. Alastor had seen in his face.

“There was no need to bother your Guardian, Mr. Potter. I just wanted to congratulate with you, your essay about the theme of Light and Dark curses was very interesting.” Professor Quirrel said, not stuttering a single word, too focused on the being standing by Harry’s side to remember his own charade. “Especially since you appear to think that ‘light’ curses can’t really exist. And while your explanation on why was very explicative, I wanted to discuss, why you appear to think that they don’t exist, Mr. Potter.”  
  
Mr. Alastor smiled “It was not a bother, I can assure you, _Professor_.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t want to presume anything” the Professor said, before asking Harry if he could tell him why he wrote what he wrote.

Feeling reassured with Mr. Alastor by his side, Harry answered, explaining the same Theory of Magic that Mr. Alastor taught him.  And while the Professor seemed to listen, he never looked at him, bar of a passing glance, instead looking at Mr. Alastor. Harry didn’t take any offense in that, knowing that people mostly got afraid or like they needed to keep an eye on him when they saw him.

Mr. Alastor instead, ever smiling as always, appeared to be looking at the classroom curious, things remained in that state of tense calm till Mr. Alastor turned to look at something.

Professor Quirrel smirked, his eyes turning red, old blood red where Mr. Alastor’s were fresh blood red, he pointed his wand at Mr. Alastor’s back, Harry didn’t even had the time to warn Mr. Alastor, that the Professor casted some sort of spell.

Mr. Alastor turned as soon as the bright orange tinted spell hit him, his smile getting wider in that unnatural sort of snarling way. He threw his head back, so far that a crack was heard, and laughed, laughed in a way that Harry had never heard before. 

It sounded so cold and different from what Harry had ever heard from him.

His laugh faded in a snicker as he straightened himself, the smile-snarl clear on his face, his antlers growing from their usual size to those of a full grown deer. His pupils had the form of dials, yet he didn’t lunge, he didn’t move, this fury, Harry realized, was different than that he showed to the troll.

“A Banishing curse.” Mr. Alastor said, he almost sounded offended, but any other shade of his tone was drown by the static. “What did you think I was, hn? An imp? A lesser demonic being? No, you didn’t even think of the demonic, you were trying to banish me, ME” is voice got impossibly low, like the growl of a dangerous creature “like I was a misbehaving poltergeist.”

Professor Quirrel took a step back just to be blocked by a duo of shadows, pins sticking from their eye sockets. Professor Quirrel tried to free himself from the grip, but didn’t manage to do anything more that dislodge his turban that fell to the ground.

  
Harry gasped.

There was a face behind Professor Quirrel’s head, a grayish looking, deformed face, its skin looking waxy as the one of a corpse, it didn’t appear to have eyes but empty sockets of flesh with no bones.

Mr. Alastor laughed again, in that cold way. “Look who is the one who is possessed.” He said disdain clear in his voice. “That thing looks… rotten. Doesn’t it, Harry?”   
  
Harry almost jumped, not expecting to be addressed, but he quickly answered affirmatively for it did look, rotten.

“He’s...he’s not a thing, he’s my master. The most powerful wizard alive.” Professor Quirrel stammered, his face white maybe in fear, maybe because he got caught.

“Well, he does not seem, so alive or even powerful right now. Just a pathetic little thing that intended to harm my Harry, of course after getting rid of me, which, is impossible. I cannot be beaten, not by a lowly mortal like yourself, or anyone for that matter”

Quirrel, or maybe his master, managed to free his wand hand free. A yell, scared and yet sure, left the Professor’s mouth: “Avada Kedavra!”

Harry knew that spell, he dreamed of it, in his nightmares. The green light that had tormented him in his nightmares since his childhood, shot out of the wand. Harry almost jumped in front of it. He couldn’t lose Mr. Alastor, he couldn’t!   
  
But he was stopped from three puppet-looking shadows. “No! No! Leave me!” He shouted, but they didn’t listen.

The green flash hit Mr. Alastor square in the chest, and Harry screamed.

But Mr. Alastor didn’t fell like the woman in Harry’s nightmares, his eyes still glowing and alert, his chest still moving with his breaths.

“Wha… How… this is impossible.” Quirrel whispered, breaking the silence. And Harry looked at him, anger, deep and seething, cruel and vendicative, burned in his death green eyes for the man and his corpse-looking master had tried to kill the only good thing in Harry’s life. Because they had tried to rip away from him the only person Harry’s saw almost as a parent.

“I will kill you” Harry growled, low and guttural and so unnaturally cold.

Mr. Alastor’s eyes snapped to him and he smiled, cruel and amazed at the same time. As he ordered his shadows to let him go.

The shadows that were blocking Quirrel took hold of his wand arm again, snapping it back.

What ever was impeding people to hear what was happening in the room, turning to Harry and Mr. Alastor’s advantage, as the man screamed his arm useless in the grip of the shadow being that had broke it.

“You want to kill him? Are you sure, my dear? Once you have done it there will be no turning back” 

“I want to kill him so much, Mr. Alastor. I want to make him regret ever trying to hurt you”

Mr. Alastor smile returned just that, the snarl gone. “Then lets get started, my dear.” 

Sadly for Harry’s need of vengeance, Quirrel died quickly, as soon as his hands touched the man, he started screaming and burning, the being that possessed him shrieking with him. 

Harry smiled widely at those screams, but couldn’t enjoy them more for as soon as he left the almost completely burnt man, he swayed backwards, his vision swimming as he lost conscience the last thing he heard before everything turned black was a whisper, almost completely drown out by static.

“ _You’ll make a fine demon, my darling._ ”

* * *

The wraith once known as Lord Voldemort, flew away has soon as he felt the life-force of his vessel weaver. 

An emotion that he refused to identify that pushed him to go as far away from Hogwarts as he could, the glowing blood red eyes of that horned creature fixed in his mind, making him feel like it was still watching him.

The creature had survived a Killing Curse, no, not survived…  _the Killing Curse didn’t even effect it_ . In his life, even when he delved deep into the Dark Arts he never read of something invulnerable to the Killing Curse, for it was able to put an end to every living thing. It ripped the soul from the body leaving it to be reaped from Death.

But not that creature, the Killing Curse hadn’t even made it flinch. It had laughed at his face insulting him, calling him pathetic, irking him, goa d ing him into cursing it. Because it knew that nothing, not even the Curse that no-one, bar from the little kid that stood beside the creature, had survived before, would have hurt it.

As the Dark Lord was forced to take another tempor ary vessel, he thought, Harry Potter and the Creature, were the center to all his thoughts then revelation hit. As the snake he took control of stuck a vulnerable mouse.

Harry Potter, the boy who survived miraculously to the Killing Curse, was being protected by that being and if what he had heard while inhabiting Quirrel’s body was true, it had been acting as the boy Guardian. It had always been there.

_Death_ . 

That wasn’t a skeleton like muggles liked to represent it as. It was a terrifying being, with blood red eyes glowing with malice and cruelness, and a smile filled with sharp teeth, that had claws and didn’t need a scythe to reclaim souls.

Now, Lord Voldemort knew how the boy had survived that night. He had Death by his side.

And he had no possibility to kill him, no he couldn’t with Death as his Guardian and Protector. But he could make an all y out of him and if Death really only cared about the boy well-being then, making him his ally would have made him, even if not directly…

_The Master of Death_ .


	17. On the edge of the razor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quirrel is dead.   
> And Dumbledore starts to plan something that may be the death of him

_Professor Quirrel was dead_.

  
And all Hogwarts knew, well, to be fair the Headmaster had just said that the man was gone and the DADA teacher role was now open again. Nothing really implied that the man was dead.

But while the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Houses took Headmaster Dumbledore words at face value, neither Ravenclaw, nor Slytherin did. 

For the Ravenclaw knew that Harry, and so his Guardian, had been the last people to see the Professor that and the fact that Harry had more than once expressed his unease during Defense class, and they had to admit that Professor Quirrel did show a strange fixation with Harry, which could have meant his death, if Harry’s Guardian saw something in his demeanor that he didn’t like.

The Slytherin just summed up the various hints that they had saw, and came to the same conclusion. 

Harry’s friends in the meantime, while the rest of the students gossiped, went to visit him in the infirmary. 

Worried for their friends, and slightly angry with the, most probably, dead professor for having landed their friend in the infirmary.

Honestly it was a miracle that Mr. Alastor wasn’t marching to the Great Hall to kill Dumbledore for having permitted harm to come to his charge. And they didn’t have any illusion, Mr. Alastor would have killed Dumbledore, for he didn’t have any qualms in doing that. 

He didn’t care for anyone other than Harry, and didn’t care for anything else outside of his well-being, so he was, quite literally, willing to do anything do get his vengeance or to have things done his way.

Which probably should have scared them away from being Harry’s friends, knowing that his Guardian was so ruthless and prone to violence against basically everything that wasn’t Harry, but it didn’t. For they had saw how much he really cared about their friend, how almost human, for he wasn’t human at all, he could be around him, softly smiling when he thought nobody apart from Harry was watching him.   
So they knew that they were mostly safe, unless one of them hurt Harry in anyway, but since they hadn’t the intention to do so, they didn’t have to worry about Mr. Alastor.

The infirmary was practically empty, if it wasn’t for Harry, who was laying down in a bed, Mr. Alastor sitting on a conjured chair that looked more like a Gothic throne than just a chair, the two were talking, Harry was smiling, and he always smiled just like his Guardian, his smile disappearing only if something serious happened, so they knew that their friend was alright.

They got closer, but they couldn’t hear what the two were saying, probably because of a privacy ward, that was lifted only when Harry noticed them.

He greeted them with his usual jovial, a little showman like, tone. And they answered in kind, greeting Mr. Alastor too as they got closer.

“How ‘re you feeling, bud?” asked Matt, he had been one of the most worried, when he heard that Mr. Alastor had brought Harry to the infirmary, for he had thought that something horrible must have happened. _Because what could have forced the Bayou Demon to bring his charge in an infirmary instead of healing him by himself_? But now that he could see Harry is worries were calming down, his friend seemed okay.

“A bit tired, but otherwise okay.” Harry answered.

“If I can ask… what happened with Quirrel?” Neville asked, his voice hesitating, but he didn’t falter in meeting the blood red gaze of Mr. Alastor when he looked upon him. The man smiled, then static-hissed something to Harry, he always did that when he wanted to be sure that they couldn’t understand him.

“Quirrel was possessed by Voldemort” Harry said, Neville and Draco flinched at the name, Matt instead frowned his eyes darkening in what seemed anger, even the Lawrence twins seemed angered, if disturbed, by that. “That’s what Headmaster Dumbledore said. He, Quirrel, tried to kill me… and to banish Mr. Alastor away.”   
  
His friends reacted with his words with mostly shock, a bit of anger at the fact that their friend had been put in danger ways, and worry.

“Oh, Merlin!” Constance exclaimed, even if his tone was a bit subdued not wanting to attract Madame Pomfrey attention.

“Mr. Alastor, are you alright?” asked Erik almost at the same time of his brother exclamation.

“Why? Of course, I am alright, though I thank you for caring! The pathetic little dark wizard doesn’t know what he has put himself against” the man answered, his voice static-y as usual, and sure.

If it had been any other to call the Dark Lord, ‘ _pathetic little wizard_ ’ or saying  _that_ , they would have been thinking of them as too arrogant, but said by Mr. Alastor, they were sure it was true.

The Dark Lord really didn’t know what he put himself against.

_Well, too bad for him_ .

That was the thought the four children shared, after all the wizard had attacked their friend, and killed many during the war he caused years prior, so really his end was long overdue by now.

Draco in the meanwhile thought of how he could word a letter to tell his father to stay as far away from the Dark Lord as possible, he really didn’t want for his father’s past affiliations to put them in danger with, well, the being that had been able to scare Albus Dumbledore into submission.

* * *

As the children talked with their friend, and their friends Guardian, Albus Dumbledore searched, tome after tome, book after book, searching for anything that even just mentioned the word ‘Overlord’ to know what to expect.

What that creature was capable of and how…  _he could stop it_ .

While he was glad to see Harry so happy and mostly carefree, he couldn’t help but to worry for the possible influence that such a dark being could have on the still impressionable boy. He couldn’t let a new Dark Lord be created under his eyes and do nothing about it.

Plus there was the issue about the fact that the creature was really protective of Harry, and really good at its job too, and, even if it pained Dumbledore to no end, he knew that Harry was destined to die, it was the only way to really beat Voldemort.

‘ _and either must die at the end of the other for neither can live if the other survives_ ’ this stated the prophecy which meant that, no matter how much Dumbledore wanted Harry to survive and live a long live, the boy had to die by Voldemort hand in order to free the world from the Dark Lord presence once and for all.

But the being, Overlord Alastor, had been clear he wouldn’t let any harm come to its charge, and Dumbledore doubted that he could make the Overlord see that Harry’s death was necessary. No, it would have raised Hell on Earth, which maybe being the Lord of two Circles of Hell (the Third the Circle of the Gluttonous and the Seventh the Circle of the Violent) meant that he really could. 

So Dumbledore really didn’t have any other possibility other than finding a way to _get rid_ of the Demon Lord, and _send him back to Hell_.

* * *

Meanwhile in the Hazbin Hotel, in Pentagram City, the Princess of Hell had her hands full with sinners wanting to redeem themselves. After all she had managed to redeem the worst of the sinners after her own Fallen Angel father, she had managed to send the Radio Demon to Heaven.

_Who knew what was Alastor up to with the angels_ …. She liked to think that he was just happy with his mother up there in the clouds.


	18. Alastor, The Radio Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore finally finds some information about Harry’s Guardian.  
> He doesn’t like what he finds

The End of the School year was nearing when Dumbledore finally found what he was searching for.

The associate that found the Tome had given him a strange look when he gave it to him, because any form of evocation was outlawed, considered one of the darkest of the Dark Arts, but he didn’t need the Tome to  invoke  a demon, but just to find a way to get rid of one.

The Tome was an old book with a black leather cover, a protective silver pentagram impressed on the front cover so to stop any of the possible demonic influences woven in the written rituals to escape the book itself and attract weaker wizards. The Tome was ancient, and in a way sentient, just like the Books of Hogwarts, for it updated itself every time a new demon appeared, writing the name and how to invoke it in its yellowed pages.

Only the major demons had chapters to themselves, and Dumbledore had the feeling that the creature that had taken Harry under its ‘ _protective wing_ ’ was one of those.

  
After having casted a containment ward, as he didn’t know if the book itself could call on to something from the Nether-realm, that the Muggles called Hell, he opened the Tome, the air around him grew heavy and cold, colder than even frosted air but nothing else happened.  
The index of the Tome was written in a curly, old calligraphy, Dumbledore looked rapidly, searching for anything about Overlords, or if he even found the name.

He found it rapidly, and really it would have been impossible to miss it. As it was written in fiery red, over every other, otherwise colored name of the other Overlords of Hell. Yet even the fact that he was one of thirteen others didn’t calm his worries, for there had to be a reason if its name was written first in the list, and for the words to appear damaged, almost as if the precedent possessor of the Tome had tried to scratch the ink away from the page.

Touching the Overlord name with the tip of his wand, made the index slowly fade away, the ink flowing black as it rearranged itself in new words, and a drawn picture.

The unmistakable figure of the being that followed Harry like a shadow was there, though in the moving ink illustration it looked much more threatening, less human that when it was by Harry’s side.

Its signature smile way to wide, teeth looking like actual fangs, its antlers much bigger and sharper, twisted shadows behind him, and writhing tentacles made out of darkness, like the one with which he had threatened Fawkes, that curled and moved as if they were trying to reach out of the illustration.

Its name written in big red letters just under the illustration. 

“ ** _Alastor the Radio Demon_** ”

And just under there was a description not of what its abilities were, but of its deeds in brutal descriptive fashion, and Dumbledore read them, he read all of them and grew paler and paler as he did.  
_Homicide, Massacres, Carnage_ … every single one of its crimes delightfully displayed and shown by the demon with great pride, every single one broadcasted for all Hell to hear. Honestly when he arrived to the part in which the Demon Lord was shown, illustrated in moving ink, devouring its demonic and human preys alike, Dumbledore couldn’t get anymore disturbed. As he looked just for a few fleeting moments the illustration gorge itself with flesh like a hungry beast. 

The fact that the Demon Lord was a cannibal just numbly registered into his terrified mind.

Then true horror downed on him as he realized that Harry, innocent and little and so, so impressionable, had grown up with such a being as his role model,  _what could it have taught him? Did it… Had Harry murdered someone for his demonic Guardian? Had_ _it_ _made the boy do any of the horrible things that it enjoyed and reveled in doing? Had Harry…_

Dumbledore eyes focused again on the illustration, as the painted demon ripped flesh with its fangs, eating with such delight that it was visible even in the painted figure.

The old wizard, feeling as old as his years and weary, just shook his head. No, Harry looked far to innocent, and he wouldn’t have done any of that. No, the boy was Light, he hadn’t been hurt or otherwise shown any discomfort in hearing Fawkes’ song.

His treacherous thought, then, whispered ‘ _But neither did Alastor_ ’, Dumbledore pointedly ignored that thought, and went back to reading.  
Horror turning into even more determination, now he was sure that he had to send that awful being back where it belonged.

Determination that weakened as he arrived to the page that was usually were the incantation to call the demon was(and were usually there was the incantation to send it back too), a black stain of ink covered everything, and if it remained there it had been fixed there by some outside influence or a very powerful, very scared dark wizard.

Under the stain something was written in red ink, or maybe for its browned appearance it wasn’t ink at all.

_** Never, Never invoke him. No matter what you get out of it, it isn’t worth the price. ** _

_** Be warned. Just forget his existence. ** _

_**  
And Never, Never make a Deal with him. ** _

Dumbledore had made a mistake, and only now he realized it. He had made a horrible mistake.

And he wasn’t sure he could do anything to correct it this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is short, I'm sorry but I wanted to give all attention do Dumbledore realization here.  
> The chapter after this will be the End of the Year and then the start of the Summer holidays, and then we'll get to the Second Year 3:)


	19. The Start of Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dursleys are gone, disappeared from their old home, Alastor could find them  
> but doesn’t want to.  
> He and Harry find a new magical home.

The last days of school before summer went by fast, in between homework and Quiddich matches and exams.  
Soon the school year come to its end, and Harry and his friends waved their goodbyes, promising each other to write during the summer.

Mr. Alastor and Harry had gone back to Number 4 of Privet Drive, only to find the house completely empty, bar for the old radio from the Twenties that was gifted to aunt Petunia by her parents. There was a thick layer of dust over the floor, which meant that the Dursley had left as soon as Harry and Mr. Alastor had left for Hogwarts.

At seeing that Alastor almost shook his head, _did they really think that he wouldn’t be able to find them just because they had left their house? If he wanted he could have not only found them but brought them back here_. But he didn’t want to do that. For _now_.

Harry didn’t have any outside reaction to finding his relatives house completely empty apart from the thinning of his smile.

  
“They have left us the house” he said, Mr. Alastor nodded.

“It appears so. Well, since we are free of their presence, do you want to continue living in the non-magic world, or do you want us to permanently transfer to the magical world?” Mr. Alastor asked.

Harry remained in silence for some moments, reflecting. “We can stay in the Wizarding World if that’s okay with you, Mr. Alastor.” he answered. Husk the Raven cawed happily at his decision.

And so Harry and Mr. Alastor left Number 4 of Privet Drive, knowing that they’d never go back there. For now though they went to Gringot to see which property of either family(Potter or Black) that Harry was a part of, they could go to live in.

Turned out that Harry had more properties than either of them imagined, since some families, that had died out since the war with Voldemort, had left their estates to Harry Potter as a gift for having vanquished the Dark Lord.

Harry’s gaze stopped on one of the names on the long list, mostly because it had something added in parenthesis near it.

“What does it mean that the Raven’s Nest Manor is unplottable?”

“It means that it can’t be found by any means, magical or muggle, if the place is not already known, Heir Potter” Griphook answered.

Harry nodded. “At least there nobody could come and disturb us if we don’t want to… what to you think, Mr. Alastor?”  
  
“It is a good choice, Harry. Though we should see it first before deciding.”

Harry nodded again, smiling.

“There is a way we could see Raven’s Nest Manor?”

Griphook nodded, calling a goblin in his office and telling him something in the goblin language. “Sharpfang will bring the familial port-key of Osnell House. Raven’s Nest Manor was their Ancestral Home.”

“Osnell?” Mr. Alastor repeated, a spark of recognition in his eyes. “I knew a wizard with Osnell as his surname, sly guy. Made a Deal with me and didn’t like the price he had to pay for it. If it is the same Osnell House, we’ll find ourselves at home in Raven’s Nest indeed.” His smile grew slightly wider at that.

Harry opened his mouth to ask ‘why?’ when Sharpfang came back, with a glass display case, on a velvet cushion there was a metal disk with a deer skull carved on, the goblin opened the display case.

“When both of you, Heir Potter and Lord Alastor, have the disk in hand just read the Osnell’s House family motto that is written under the family crest.”

Both nodded at the explanation.

“If we decide that we choose the property, how will we notify you?”  
  


“No need to worry, Lord Alastor. We’ll know.” Griphook answered quite vaguely.

Mr. Alastor looked at the goblin, but said nothing as he and Harry took the metal disk.

“ _Sic_ _gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc_ _”_ both read, and in an instant, feeling like they had traveled through a highway running, they ended up in front of the Manor.

Which really define it as simply a manor sounded reductive, when it looked like a castle.

The building loomed dark and imposing, high spires pierced the sky with their sharp points, tall windows, appearing black, were here and there on the facade, looking like empty eyes. Over the double door in ebony there was the family crest, sculpted in black marble, red charmed eyes appeared to look from the deer skull, under it the words ‘ _Sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nun_ _c_ ’(We will feast on those that try to subject us), surrounded by black ivy, that had grown upwards from the ground, on the columns and then over the outer parts of the crest.

The doors opened by themselves, a lobby shrouded in darkness behind them.

Then a pop, a little house elf, with grayish pale skin and lilac eyes, dressed in a uniform sporting the family crest, appeared.

“Masters!” She exclaimed overjoyed “We have been waiting for your arrival for so long! Since Old Master Rowland told us you’d arrive some years after his death.”

Harry and Mr. Alastor looked at each other and then at the elf that presented herself as ‘ _Nimby_ ’ and then guided them into the manor, the candles in the lobby lit up, the flames charmed to burn a deep crimson, washing the space in a low red light.

The lobby was spacious, marbled floor covered by a black carpet decorated with silver swirls, there were paintings on the walls and some sleeping portraits, that had yet to be awaken by the active presence of two new magical sources.

Nimby guided them through the building, showing them the various rooms. There were two dinning rooms, one fashioned to be the formal one for banquets and the like and one slightly smaller, that one was just for the family, over the three floors there were five parlors, each with its theme and all of them, apart from the one near the Master’s study were intended for an informal use. 

One of the places that became immediately Harry’s favorite was the library, as he had never saw such a big library, tall bookshelves in ebony with a deer skull sculpted on the side filled the ample room, Harry promised himself that he would explore it better when the tour was finished.

Then she showed them the family wing, where the family’s bedrooms, and studies, were. And then the dueling room, and the ritual room, both situated in the underground floor of the mansion, there was even a potion lab, though it would have to be refurbished since all the ingredients that needed to be fresh, and couldn’t be kept under a preservation spell, had gone bad in this time.

The last place she showed them was the sun room, that was connected to the gardens of the manor. The gardens were vast, and well kept just as the rest of the manor.

There were tall black trees with glowing leaves together with bushes of what appeared to be berries, and flowers that Harry had never saw, void black violets with sparkles of stars on their petals and glowing blue lilies that opened as soon as insects flew by them, closing their furling petals on the unsuspecting beings and much more, in the distance Harry spotted two domed greenhouses, that were as for now empty, and living beings: deers and fawns moving on the confine were the forest that surrounded the Manor became garden, birds magical and not flying or perching on the branches of the trees.

At the center of the garden stood a statue of black marble, a being taller than three men, with sharp claws, the body covered in fur looked almost skeletrical, and its face was a deer skull with imposing sharp antlers.

“Was the founder of the House Wilhelm Osnell?” asked Mr. Alastor to Nimby when the tour had ended, his eyes still on the distant statue. Harry looked curiously at his Guardian.

“Yes, he was, Master Overlord Alastor” the little creature answered.

“Oh… I knew I recognized the crest. Still I didn’t think that Wilhelm would have made his whole House tradition around me.” 

“You knew him, Mr. Alastor?” Harry asked, curious and a bit confused.

“Yes, you could say that I am the only reason why this place even exist” He answered after having dismissed Nimby. “He wasn’t rich, he wasn’t even noble. But he wanted to be, oh so much. He called me, we made a Deal, and I asked him to always remember that I was why he had so much.” he said, looking at the gardens and then back again at the statue. “I didn’t think he would literally make me the symbol of his house, _curious_. For how much he tried to call out on our Deal, I would have thought that he had decided to just forget my other request.” 

“So… that’s you, Mr. Alastor?” Harry asked, pointing at the statue with just a glance. “But you don’t look like _that_.”  
  
Mr. Alastor laughed, a laughing track following the sound of his voice. “ _I could_. I just do not have any reason to look like that when I am with you. I would not want to terrify you, dear.” he said as soon as his laugh had faded. Then he turned towards Harry, alas diverting his eyes from the statue. “Tell me, Harry, have you ever heard of the _legend of the Wendigo_?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Osnell's House motto is the Addams' Family motto. It just fit so well with the vibe I wanted to give to the Osnell's Family that I just had to use it.  
> Little curiosity about this chapter, while I was outlining it Nimby was called Nimsy then I decided to change it because I thought it sounded too much like Nifty...


	20. A Part of the Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Alastor told Harry a part of the truth about himself.   
> Harry reflects.

Harry was in the library, walking in between the ebony bookshelves, every shelf was filled to the brim with books covered in leather of various colors and with various decorations on the spine. But Harry wasn’t looking at the books, instead he was reflecting about what Mr. Alastor told him.

Harry already knew that the man wasn’t really human, but he had thought that he had been born that way and not that he had consciously chosen to leave his humanity behind for his powers. Of course, there was still something that he hadn’t tell him, because Wendigos were cursed to always retain the form of beast, so Mr. Alastor must have been something else, something _more_ than a normal Wendigo, to be able to look so similar to a human.

Still it wasn’t what Mr. Alastor had told him that was shocking him so much, he had already suspected that there was something behind the mostly meat based diet of his Guardian, so that wasn’t that shocking, and knowing that Mr. Alastor wasn’t technically a human anymore it didn’t really make it cannibalism anymore, though it had started like that. What shocked Harry was his own reaction, he wasn’t afraid or horrified or anything that a normal person, probably even a normal wizard, would have been. _No, he was perfectly fine with Mr. Alastor revelation, in fact he had readily accepted it_.

He was even _curious_ on how differently a human would taste in respect of an animal.

And this was that shocked him, because for how much he liked to not being normal, there should have been _some line_ here or there that he shouldn’t cross not even with his thoughts, or at least he thought there should be. But there weren’t.

He didn’t care about _other people_ , he cared only about his friends and Mr. Alastor, _so what if his Guardian needed to eat human meat? So what if this had been caused by his own choice?_ That didn’t make him any less his Guardian, didn’t make him any less the person that had gone beyond just protecting him from the Dursleys, giving him a better life.

So he really couldn’t bring himself to care about other people, who behind closed doors could be just like the Dursleys or even worse. _So what if he wanted to try? If he wanted to descend even further?_ He had already expressed more than once the desire to kill his own relatives, he actually killed his DADA professor. _Why did he felt like he had to have qualms about_ that topic _?_

Wendigos lived forever. Humans, and wizards, didn’t. 

And Harry really didn’t want to leave Mr. Alastor’s side. He had already condemned himself by killing someone, his soul now was ‘weaker’ in a sense, if the Theory of Dark Magic that he and Mr. Alastor had read was right about it, ready to fall apart and break at the smallest hint of an act as horrible as killing. So what if he wanted to skip that part and renounce consciously at that little part of him, to gain immortality? To gain the right to be by Mr. Alastor’s side forever…

Harry really didn’t want to be alone again. He didn’t want to be alone ever again, no matter the price he had to pay for getting it.

Harry stopped walking, in front of him there was a painting, permanently attached to the wall. The scene in it portrayed was a violent battle, in between wizards, which were using even non-magical means to subjugate their enemies, the road and snow under them forever tinting in red blood, that continued to be spilled in the forever repeating scene. The portrait of battle had been muted, Harry could feel the spell now that his magic was part of the wards of the house, which meant that when it was painted and soon after, the screams of the battle could have been heard. 

_How morbid_ .

Still it combined well with the overall feeling that the Osnell’s Manor gave out.

Harry turned his back to the painting, deciding to leave the library. And to leave what he had thought until now, behind for now.

He had to send the address to his friends or they’d never be able to send him anything, with this objective in mind, the young wizard went to the owlery, that was completely empty, bar for Husk the Raven that was perched on a carved branch of red tinted wood, snacking on a skinned rabbit that had been left there for him, by the elves probably.

Parchment and inked quill in hand, called with a quick conjuring spell, and sitting on a chair with a small circular table near it, both charmed to protect them from any dirt and grime, Harry started writing to his friends. Sometimes looking up to see his raven, rip bits of bloodied flesh with his beak and gulping them down with delight.

Harry wasn’t bothered by the gory sight, in fact he had never really been bothered by the sight of blood, since he had seen it lots growing up, mostly though had been his own. When his uncle hit him with the belt a little too strongly, or from all the scratches and cuts he got while running away from Dudley, or from the bites that the mastiff of ‘aunt’ Marge gave him before he learned how to climb trees to avoid it.

Harry focused again on the letters, shacking his head a bit as if to clear his thoughts away. He completed them almost in par with Husk finishing his rabbit.

“Do you feel like you can bring this letters to my friends, Husk?” Harry asked softly to his raven, that first looked at him tilting his head, his big brown, slightly reddish, eyes fixed on him. Then Husk cawed, flying down his high perch to the table near Harry.

  
“Thank you, my friend” Harry said, tying the letters to one of his raven’s legs, with a soft, silky  ribbon so that it wouldn’t hurt his skin, though spelled so that the knot couldn’t loosen unless it was untied by the receiver.

Soon after Husk took off, and Harry was left mostly alone since Mr. Alastor was giving him some space to think about what he had revealed to him. Not that he needed more, he had reflected enough for his tastes, Harry left the owlery, searching for Mr. Alastor. 

He had to tell him his conclusion,  _his decision_ .


	21. This is just the Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry tells Alastor his decision. The Radio Demon is… overjoyed

Finding Mr. Alastor had been easier than Harry thought it would be, especially with how big and dispersive the Manor was, and how its corridors had a definite maze-like quality. It almost seemed like the building itself had helped the young wizard in finding his Guardian,  who right now was sitting on one of the plush, elegant, armchairs of the only parlor in the whole Manor that had a good and direct view of the statue in the center of the gardens, holding a cup of hot, black coffee in his clawed hands, a distant look in his red eyes, a faint murmur of static around him, and an even fainter music, sounding like swing, almost drowned by the static.

Harry had never seen Mr. Alastor this pensive,  this distracted.

“Mr. Alastor?” Harry called, his voice almost too low and soft to be heard over the static, but Mr. Alastor heard him anyway, the man turned his head towards him, as the static lowered considerably, giving him one of his softer around the edge smiles.

“Oh, Harry. I was not expecting to see you so soon. Have you thought about what I told you?” He asked pleasantly, though there was an underline of worry in his voice, well hidden but not so that Harry that knew well the man couldn’t see it.

It was almost as if he was worried that Harry could have…  _ what? Not accepted him? Was Mr. Alastor worried that he would have  _ rejected _ him? _   
  
Harry nodded at his Guardian’s question. “I have Mr. Alastor, and I, really, I’m fine with that. You are still the one who cared, and cares for me, known that doesn’t change it.” He said, pausing for a moment.

The worry hidden in Mr. Alastor’s eyes faded away, as his smile got realer that it had been before.

“My dear Harry, you are so _precious_. _Such a gift_ , I have never seen someone so understanding as you” 

Harry smiled a bit more under the praises that his Guardian was giving him. Then his smile wilted a bit, as he tried to get enough courage to tell his Guardian what he had been thinking. About the other part of his decision, a nervousness he had never felt before grew inside him making him feel anxious. “Uhm… there is also another thing, I wanted to say, Mr. Alastor.” Harry said, and after another little pause, he told Mr. Alastor about what he had been thinking, about his desire to follow his footsteps, his reasons for wanting to become a Wendigo like him, why he wanted to follow him.  
Harry talked without stopping for a long while, trying to keep his anxiousness in check, so to not stumble on his own words. And hoping that his speech was making at least a bit of sense.

Mr. Alastor listened to him, letting him talk without any interruption. Then after he had finished with his ‘speech’, Mr. Alastor remained in silence for a little while. Harry worried slightly at the silence.  
  
“Are you sure, my dear?” Mr. Alastor asked after a moment. “Do not take my question as disapproval, because it is not. I am more than flattered that you want to follow my footsteps, to be like me. But I have to ask you, are you sure? A damaged soul can be repaired by magic, but if you follow me… it will be irreversibly corrupted...Nothing will be able to turn you back.  _ Are you still sure, Harry? _ ”  
  
Harry nodded his eyes filled with determination, not a hint of hesitance in his demeanor. He was ready, he had decided and nothing was going to convince him to go back on his decision.

At that it was like someone had flipped a switch in Mr. Alastor’s mind for his expression changed swiftly, the apprehension and worry gone from his face, substituted by a large, unnatural looking, smile. His red eyes filled with a kind of dark joy.

“Well then, Harry!” He said enthusiastically “We will have to hone your instincts then, you are not ready to take on a human prey, _yet_. Luckily for us we have plenty of small and big game to hunt around here to teach you.” 

* * *

The grounds of the Manor were filled with even more animals than Harry had seen the first time. There weren’t just deers and their fawns, there were rabbits and hares and other little animals, even some snakes that Harry had heard hiss towards them, calming down when he answered to them, ‘ _ Speakers _ ’ were important to snakes and they always listened to them.

Mr. Alastor was strangely beautiful to watch when he killed with method and not anger. The deer that had been his prey didn’t even have the least clue that it had been followed and that was walking towards it’s death. Mr. Alastor had moved swiftly like a snake springing to bite, and the moment after without even a sound the deer was down, dead. Its neck twisted in an unnatural direction.

“Humans would use lead to kill their prey, we could to… but, and you will see once your humanity starts slipping, that it ruins the taste. I will teach you how to not ruin your prey for you.” Mr. Alastor said, rather quietly while bringing the deer near to where Harry was. “It is more difficult to kill a prey this way, but it is also more satisfying, though you will have to be clever, you do not have claws or sharp teeth like I do, for now. So you will have to use what you have.”   
  
Harry nodded, his eyes for a moment leaving Mr. Alastor’s, meeting the glassy, empty gaze of the deer. Waiting for a moment to see if it made him feel something, he had read that people could have reactions in seeing dead animals so up close, but he… _didn’t feel a thing_. He just stared into those dead eyes, and _felt nothing_.

Mr. Alastor smirked at him, as if he knew what he had been doing. Then he asked: “What can you use at your advantage to swiftly end your prey?”   
  
Harry looked mostly around himself, because he knew he wasn’t strong enough to break something’s neck, maybe he could break the neck of a rabbit or a bird… but he wasn’t sure. Then one of the snake ha had talked to hissed, it didn’t speak exactly just hissed.

“This forest is almost filled with snakes, I can _control them_ , I can tell them to aide me, to immobilize my prey for me, or even _kill it_ if I so wanted.” He answered. One of the adders hissed in joy at his words calling him a ‘ _clever little snakeling_ ’ .

Mr. Alastor nodded. “But you wouldn’t want to let your snake rob you of your first kill, would you?” 

Harry shacked his head. 

“ _Good_. I will make a perfect little hunter out of you, my dear” 


	22. The Shadow Python

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds something interesting in the forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> § _word_ § = Parseltongue

Harry was in the forest, studying the place, surrounding him. His surroundings were mostly silent, now that Mr. Alastor had gone back to the Manor, leaving one of his shadows to protect him, to butcher the deer before the meat started spoiling because of the bacteria in the animal’s entrails.

Alone Harry had managed to capture and kill a rabbit, he could still feel its soft fur under his hands, and how the little thing’s heart had been beating, fast and scared. The adders that followed him had hissed praises, to how quick and how good he had been, before telling him how sorry they were to not be of help, but he wasn’t immune to their venom, and they weren’t good in keeping preys still in their coils since they had their venom.

So Harry moved a little deeper in the forest, not searching for prey, since his was already in a leather bag, with preservation spells so to keep it fresh, instead searching for a snake that could help him in his hunts.

The deeper he got, denser the foliage became, the shadows growing deeper and darker, the air filled with the sweet, woody scent of decaying leafs, and of moss. Said moss was so thriving in the undergrowth that his every step was muted by the soft, natural, green carpet that covered the ground, though it softened so much the silhouettes that Harry had to be even more careful to avoid roots and rocks, so to not trip on them.

The forest was wonderful in its ways, full of life, even though dark as night. He had seen some of the glowing flowers that grew in the gardens prosper under the visible roots of some trees, while some instead grew over fallen trees living off the dead wood. There were less, noticeable rabbits here, but Harry had noticed some deer moving in between the trees, well camouflaged and almost unnoticeable if one didn’t give it too much attention.

Then he heard something, a low hissing sound, the cracking of dry leaves as something moved on them, he stood still in alert, ready to bring out his wand, if it became necessary. Mr. Alastor’s shadow solid near him, looking through the dark with its neon bleeding sockets.

Nothing else moved, the adders began hissing to themselves.

Nothing continued to happen, but Harry remained alert, looking through the leaves and branches, on the moss-covered trees, there was nothing around.

Harry started walking again, listening for the low wordless hiss, but there was nothing. Instead he found other adders, that decided to stay in their nests, asking him to steer away from them since they had just laid their eggs.

Even though he got calmer he didn’t lower his guard, instead looking even more attentively at the forest around him, the Shadow silently trailing after him.

The he heard the low hiss again, this time he managed to hear some words: ‘ _My darkness_ ’; ‘ _away_ ’. So it was a snake following them, he deduced.

Another low hiss, almost growling as some angry snakes sounded. Then like a shadow solidifying a snake str uck from the darkness in between the trees, its fangs bared, but it didn’t touch him no it tried to hit Mr. Alastor’s shadow, vanishing in the dark surrounding them as soon as the Shadow tried to grasp it.

§ _Are we in your territory?_ § Harry asked to the darkness, talking in the snake tongue, maybe he could get the snake to calm down if he did.

The snake, wherever it was answered with a long hissing ‘ _yes_ ’, appearing not even shocked that a human could talk the language of snakes but probably a magic snake wouldn’t be surprised as normal snake were.

§ _This darkness is mine!_ § the snake hissed again, slowly solidifying in front of Harry’s eyes, its long body coiled around a near tree, its scales deep black, its eyes instead were ever-changing: red-orange-green-purple-cyan all in this sequence like they were filled with smoke that changed color continuously.

§ _I’m sorry if we disturbed you, we didn’t know you were here. We aren’t here to take anything_ §

  
The snake remained silent for a moment, tasting the air with its purplish forked tongue, to try and feel if had lied or not.

Then it nodded its head. § _I see, but I do not like this shadow-being in my darkness_ §  
  
§ _I understand_ §  
  
The snake slithered a bit downwards on the tree, now Harry and the snake were practically eye-to-eye. § _What is a young_ _Speaker_ _like you doing here?_ §

§ _I was hunting with..._ § Harry paused for a moment, there weren’t words in the snake tongue to describe a ‘ _Guardian_ ’, for they didn’t have the concept of another snake taking care of a little one that wasn’t theirs. So Harry had to go with the only other word possible§ _… my parent. He’s gone, preparing the meat of our prey and I stayed here, searching for...hunt-mate..._ §

  
The snake looked at him, it looked much more smart than normal snakes and now appeared to be pondering. § _What is your preferred prey, young Speaker?_ §

§ _Deer, though I’m hunting smaller prey for now§_   
  
The snake hiss-laughed § _Of course, you are a little one still. Though if your preferred prey are the bigger ones I’d be glad to be your hunt-mate._ _As long as I get a prey of mine when we hunt small prey_ § The snake said,  Harry nodded . § _But I don’t want the shadow-being in my darkness if I’m to come with you, young Speaker_ §

§ _I see_ § Harry said § _What would you consider as your darkness if you where to come with me?_ §  
  
The snake pondered, tasting the air with its flickering tongue for a moment. § _Your darkness, and the darkness around our prey._ §  
  
_His darkness? What did the snake… His shadow! That was what the snake meant._ Harry nodded before answering vocally to the snake. § _Only one more question: Do you have poison?_ §  
  
§ _No, but I have a strong body, I can break the bones of the prey, no need for venom when you can break them._ § The snake answered proudly.  Slithering down the tree, it took almost an entire minute to get full off the tree, its tail disappearing like a wisp of black smoke, making it look even longer than it was in this lighting. § _How are you called, little Speaker?_ §

§ _Harry, you?_ §

The snake made a long hissing sound that Harry supposed it was its name. § _You can call me Sasha when talking with the one who cannot Speak. My other Speaker did the same._ §  
  
Harry nodded as Sasha, dipped his vanishing tail in his shadow as if to connect with it. § _You knew another Speaker?_ §  
  
§ _Yes, he is sounds were different then yours when he did not Speak. And there was more snow, he sent me here, when his predators found him. He is dead._ § Sasha answered, honest as all snake were. 

Honestly Harry didn’t know why, wizards and muggles thought that ‘ _snake_ ’ could be used as a way to call  _liars_ , when snakes were nothing other than honest, some times even too honest.

§ _I’m sorry to hear that_ §

§ _He has gone to better hunting grounds now, where there isn’t any snow_ § Sasha hiss-laughed, maybe for an inside joke he had with his previous Speaker. § _Do you want to hunt more, Harry?_ §  
  
§ _I would like to present you my...parent, if you want?_ §  
  
Sasha hissed in agreement.

* * *

Returning to the Manor took more time that Harry thought, mostly because he had gone deeper than he had expected before finding Sasha, though the route was long, Harry didn’t really feel it, since he had lots to talk with Sasha, the snake was quite talkative for a being that had lived almost two years, if Harry had done the right translation snake-to-human for the time period, without any human contact.

Also Sasha had a strange tilt in his(for Sasha was a he) words, different from the other snakes that Harry had talked too. Curious he didn’t think that snakes could have different accents and dialects.

When they arrived to the Manor, Sasha hid in his shadow, wanting to surprise Mr. Alastor.

“Welcome back, Harry!” Mr. Alastor said when he arrived where the man was waiting for him. “Have found any interesting prey?”  
  
“Well… I managed to hunt a rabbit…” Harry answered a bit embarrassed, but Mr. Alastor smiled at him and Harry felt his embarrassment diminish a bit. “But I found something very interesting. Sasha!” He said, Mr. Alastor tilted his head at the sudden, apparently random, exclamation.

Then Sasha left his shadow, coiling, delicately, around him until his head was on his palm, his long body in part wrapped around him. Sasha flickered his tongue, to know Mr. Alastor’s smell so that he could always recognize him.

“Very interesting.” Mr. Alastor said looking at the snake. “You have got your very own Shadow, hm, my dear? So soon, and we have not even started yet.” A little pause, while Harry smiled at how pleased Mr. Alastor looked. “I know you will make me _very proud_ , Harry” 


	23. The Letter from the Ministry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Letter arrives to Raven’s Nest Manor. It’s from the Ministry and it’s addressed to…  
>  _Mr.Alastor_?

The days of the first month of summer flew by a s Harry honed his hunting skills, though now focusing more on the stalk without getting spotted rather than the killing, since they had plenty of deer meat, and hunting more would be wasteful. Working on his coordination with Sasha, too, getting to know more the shadow python, Sasha was fast for his size, and when striking from the trees he could stop birds mid-flight, which was almost mesmerizing to watch, his body forming from the shadows as if wisps of darkness were grouping together in the shape of a snake, his sharp black, slightly translucent like obsidian, fangs sinking in between the puffy feathers, and then Sasha closed his mouth on his prey and it was gone.

  
It was truly fascinating to watch.

And Sasha knew that, and as the vain snake that he was he liked to put up a show when doing it. Yes, Sasha fitted right in with him and Mr. Alastor, and their way of being.

Right now Harry was in the library,  having finished most of his homework (he had yet to complete the essay for potions about the uses of a moon-charged opal as a mean to change the effects of certain potions). Having finished those he had decided to just leisure reading a book  in regards of dark creatures, curious if he would find more about his snake, since Sasha had told him vaguely that his previous Speaker had told him that he was considered a dangerous creature to have in his place.  T hough Harry  thought that it wasn’t England, maybe another nation completely, though he  still  didn’t know which exactly , since  Sasha didn’t give him a lot of information about it, telling him only that it was freezing during winter and that there was lots of snow in respect of the UK. So he wasn’t really sure if Sasha was considered ‘dark’ in England.

§ _There is something wrong, Harry? You smell of sadness and I doubt it’s from what you are reading._ § Sasha asked, coming out of his shadow, coiling around the back of the armchair to look at him in the eyes.

§ _You’d be right, it’s not the book_ § Harry answered, putting down the book on a near table. §I _t’s… just that… the full moon as almost passed and… my nest-mates haven’t send words yet_ .§

The snake made a slight movement with his head, like a nod. § _You were expecting them too?_ §

§ _They promised they would write to me! And they haven’t!_ § 

§ _Are your nest-mates trusted, Harry?_ § Sasha asked, Harry nodded. § _Maybe they couldn’t, or something is stopping their words to reach you, have you thought about that?_ §

Harry remained in silence for a moment, and then another more. He hadn’t thought that maybe they couldn’t or that something could be stopping them. He had just thought that they had forgotten, or that he wasn’t really that important to them. He had j ust gone straight to feeling betrayed not even stopping to think that maybe as much as they wanted something had stopped them from writing him back.

Sasha smirked, or at least made the snake equivalent of a smirk, a slight curling of his upper lip showing a hint of fangs. § _You didn’t, did you?_ § he said § _You are just like my other Speaker, he too did tend to jump on conclusions when his nest-mates weren’t heard for a while. I always told him to send them other words when that happened, would you like to try the same too?_ §   
  
§ _I… could_ § Harry  said,  _he could try, maybe his friends would answer this time_ , and at the same time feeling slightly more curious about Sasha’s previous Speaker, maybe if he knew who that had been he could understand from where Sasha came .  The shadow python went back in his shadow, as Harry stood up to go write another letter to his friends.

* * *

As Husk the Raven took off again, a grayish owl arrived  passing through the spelled glass . The letter, it was carrying looked important  whitish parchment with a royal purple ribbon around it, sealed by a red wax seal ,  though Harry couldn’t see the seal on the wax  from that angle .

“Is it for me?” He asked the owl, it made a sound that almost sounded like a negation, but let him take the letter anyway.

Harry recognized the seal from an illustration in one of the introductory books he had read, it was the seal of the Ministry of Magic.  But the shocking thing was to whom the letter was addressed to, for there wasn’t a name written behind the letter, but a red voodoo glyph: A skull pierced by an arrow, and a snake coiling around both of them, two dots on either side of the down-pointing arrowhead. 

Mr. Alastor’s glyph, that was derived by his Patron Loa glyph, it appeared on letters that were written by magic, since magic recognized that as Mr. Alastor’s ‘name’ instead of his name, the only way to address it in his ‘human’ name was to write the letter by hand, or to know his real nature while writing. Not even Harry was sure that he knew Mr. Alastor’s real nature, so probably if he addressed the letter by magic, the glyph would appear.

With the letter in hand, and Sasha slithering near him, since he apparently got bored to follow him from ‘his darkness’, Harry went to the Master’s study of the Manor where Mr. Alastor was. Giving him the letter as soon as the man let him enter into the study.

Mr. Alastor looked curiously at the Ministry’s letter, before breaking the wax seal with one of his claws and untying the ribbon before taking it away from the envelope so that he could open it. He read the letter, rapidly, though with attention. Then a small, incredulous laugh left his lips.

“Mr. Alastor?”   
  
“Apparently… well, apparently _I am a Lord in the Wizarding World too, now…_ ” 


	24. Lord Ancestor of House Osnell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor discovers the unexpected consequences of creating a line from nothing

“Wh… How?” Harry asked too dumbfounded to stop the abrupt, confused question.

“I am not sure” Mr. Alastor answered, re-reading the letter once more. “I do not have a House, or any kind of Lordship in the mortal realm… And the letter does not really explain anything. It only notifies me, that they expect me to be a part of the Wizengamot proceedings and to reclaim my Lordship if it is not already done.” he added, the static in his voice raising, maybe in annoyance at the lack of information, and while Harry was used to it, Sasha hissed in displeasure at the sudden static-y sound.

Mr. Alastor didn’t pay any mind to the snake reaction, still focused on the letter. Then he sighed.

“I have never wanted this kind of ‘power’. I find Politics incredibly… _boring_.” He static-hissed, Sasha raised his head at the sound, almost understanding what he had just said. Harry made just a little gesture to his snake in a manner of saying ‘ _I’ll explain later_ ’.

“You could always not accept their convocation, Mr. Alastor. If it bores you so much.” Harry said, not understanding why Mr. Alastor was acting like he didn’t have a choice but to accept, he’d never done something that bored him so… why?

“Well, Harry, if I am a Lord in the wizard sense, your Headmaster will not have anymore claims to your guardianship, and we know that he will go by that route as soon as he realizes that he cannot send me away.” Mr. Alastor explained, the static having settled in that medium-high tone that it did when Mr. Alastor was annoyed. Harry almost worried that he was annoyed at him for being this much trouble but the man shacked his head as if he had just read his mind. “I am not annoyed at you, Harry, I would never, my dear. I am just annoyed at how the wizard’s system works and the fact that because of it I have to bore myself to death so that they do not try to take you away, for I would react… _very poorly_ if they tried, and you still need a world to live in so I cannot let that happen.”

Harry nodded, not knowing what to say. Once again almost not believing at how much Mr. Alastor cared for him. He had been so lucky in finding him, it was almost as if the angels(that at this point Harry wasn’t sure if they were real, if the theory that had started to put roots in his mind was right) had listened to his prayers and send someone to help him. Though he maybe was looking at this from the wrong, too religious angle. “Well, most of the wizards don’t like non-humans… but they’ll have to listen to you, Mr. Alastor.” Harry said then trying to raise his Guardian spirits from the prospect of absolute boredom.

“You are right, my dear. Supposing that my title is not for a lesser House, I will have some fun in seeing those little pure-blooded wizards struggling to remain polite as they despise my presence in between them” Mr. Alastor said, the static lowered significantly, and his smile grew slightly. “but we’ll have to see. I have to reclaim my title in Gringot after all.”

“I swear wizards leave the control of too many things to goblins, for being as racist as they are.” Harry commented, Mr. Alastor chuckled at his comment.

  
“Indeed they do, my dear. Indeed they do”

Harry smiled to his Guardian, and then by mutual accord both of them when to Gringot by shadow-travel, Mr. Alastor by his own power, and Harry, that had yet to start his ‘conversion’ to the dark nature, thanks to Sasha that followed Mr. Alastor through the darkness.

As soon as they arrived Sasha hid in Harry’s shadow, since the young wizard didn’t want to reveal to the public his Parseltongue ability, yet.

The goblins didn’t seem to glad at their ability to ‘Apparate’ in Gringot so easily, but accepted Mr. Alastor’s ‘apology’ at the price that he had to tell the goblins how to ward the bank from this kind of ‘Apparition’, which Mr. Alastor accepted but at the cost that the goblins would let him and Harry out of the wards effects.

  
The goblins seemed to respect him a bit more after his show of bartering the price and costs of a deal. Even though it wasn’t a Deal, since the beings knew better than doing that kind of Deal with a deal-maker such as Mr. Alastor.

They then were brought to another office, different from Griphook’s, the space looked darker than the other one, blackened goblin-forged weapons in display, and even a soul stone in a display case on a far shelf, even though soul stones were highly illegal, since they were considered a Dark Artifact in Wizarding Britain.

The goblin, Copperfang, had a slightly more vicious smirk than Griphook’s too, his dark green, almost black, eyes studying them.

“You are here to reclaim your lordship?” Copperfang asked Mr. Alastor as soon as they sat down on the armchairs in front of the goblin’s desk.

Mr. Alastor nodded. “And to name my ward, my Heir, if that is possible.” ha added, Harry looked at his Guardian in shock, a positive shock but still… shock.

  
“Mr. Alastor…?”  
  


Mr. Alastor turned to him, as Copperfang smirked wider preparing something on his desk. “I can protect you better in this way, my dear. I know that I should have asked you before deciding, but you trust me, don’t you?”

“of course I trust you, Mr. Alastor. I would have accepted if you had asked me just as I accept now, I’m just… shocked. I… I don’t really know what to say…”

Mr. Alastor smiled. “Then say nothing, my dear. You know I will take care of you, and that it is not too much for me, we are just  formalizing something that was already known.”

H arry just nodded, blinking fast for a moment to stop the tears, of joy, from spilling from his eyes. A discussion between him and Sasha coming to his mind, as he remembered to have tried to explain to the snake that while he called Mr. Alastor ‘parent’ in the snake tongue that he wasn’t actually his parent, and that the snake had just told him ‘ _he takes care of you, and helps you grow well and strong, right? He is your parent… no need for all those silly humans appellatives_ ’.   
_His snake had been right, hadn’t he_ ? At least he had already had the time to get used to call Mr. Alastor his parent, instead of just his Guardian.

And… he felt so, so happy.  _He wasn’t just someone he had to care for to Mr. Alastor, he considered him more than just his ward, no, he considered him as an Heir, maybe even really as a son…_

“I thought it would have been a claim through blood.” Mr. Alastor said to the goblin, his static-y voice bringing Harry back to the present.

“We both know that you don’t share blood with the House you are claiming lordship of.” the goblin said. “But this is still your House. _You created it._ ”  


“I… _created it_?” Mr. Alastor repeated, confused. As the goblin showed him a ring with the Osnell crest on it, little drops of ruby that formed the eyes of the deer skull looking at Mr. Alastor from their dark metal sockets.

“In fact this is just formality, I already know that you are their Lord Ancestor. The Founder of the Line, it’s truly magnificent to see a Family restart from its Founder.”

“I… I just gave Wilhelm, the status he needed, he founded his Line.” Mr. Alastor said, even though he took the ring from the goblin.

“Not in Magic’s eyes, it saw you as the Founder, after all, it was you that gave him the title.” Copperfang explained, as Mr. Alastor put the ring on, the ruby eyes of the deer skull started glowing and glowing, a flash of deep red blinded them all for a moment, as a static like sound filled the air. Then the light was gone, just as the static like sound, but the deer skull’s ruby eyes still softly glowed in a manner that reminded Harry of the eye in Mr. Alastor’s microphone staff.

“Lord Ancestor Alastor Osnell, it will be a pleasure to manage your vaults.” The goblin said smirking viciously.

“The surname came with the title? I am not of their family.” 

“It didn’t, but it is as Magic recognizes you, Lord Ancestor Osnell.”  
  
Mr. Alastor just nodded, slightly annoyed by the fact, but not reacting outwardly at the fact.

“Now it is your turn, Mr. Potter. You are almost twelve right?”

Harry nodded at the goblin question, before answering vocally.

  
The goblin then explained them that it was tradition in the Osnell’s House that the Heir took their ring, and title with the subsequent responsibilities, just before they turned twelve or in the night of their change of age, which meant that they had been quite lucky in being informed so quickly by the Ministry.

The Heir ring was simpler than the Lord ring, it was just a band of darkened metal with a little ruby shaped in the form of an eye, as soon as Harry put it on, the eye glowed, flashing red, and then went back to a soft, continuous glow.

_ In Magic’s eyes, Harry was now, Mr. Alastor’s Heir. _

_In Magic’s eyes, Harry had now a Family._ Someone that cared for him, someone that would kill for him without hesitation, and even if Harry was vaguely aware that no person would kill so readily for their ward(or offspring), Harry considered it as a show of care, at least in the standards that Mr. Alastor had taught him.

In the meantime in the Ministry of Magic, rumors about a red Dark Mark-like symbol that had been written by an enchanted quill started to spread. And Lucius Malfoy, having read and heard his son’s warnings, already knew to whom the Dark Mark-like symbol referred to and he was more than content to have listened to his instincts and to his son’s words. Things were going to change, things were already changing, and Lucius would have done everything to be sure that his family came up on top, or as near to the top as he could. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, the person that controlled the enchanted quill of the Ministry rattled what they saw... Sadly they didn't know that not all 'snake-and-skull' symbols are related to the Dark Mark.


	25. A Lucky Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Gringot, Harry meets one of his friends.  
> And makes an interesting discovery

After claiming their titles, they talked a bit more with Copperfang, to know better the Osnell House so that Mr. Alastor knew what is position in the Wizengamot was. And now they did, the Osnell House was one of the Major Noble Houses, though it wasn’t one of the Sacred Twenty-eight, still it wasn’t a Lesser House, of which Mr. Alastor was more than glad, because he wouldn’t have bared to have to listen, and do, what others told him.

One of the most important things they came to know was that the Osnell House was a part of the Dark Faction, and not a little part either, since the Osnells were one of the Founders, together with the Slytherins, Gaunts, Malfoys, Blacks and Lestranges of the so-called Dark Faction of the Wizengamot.  
So even it the Osnell House was just a Major Noble House, its decisions were very much valued from the Wizengamot.

Mr. Alastor had smiled, almost evilly, at the information. And Harry had been curious of what the man had thought, probably a way to make things interesting, or entertaining, for himself and cause a little Chaos in the Wizarding World, which Harry thought it needed. Wizards were too boring, too bureaucratic for people who had such an incredible power as magic, they deserved to have their lives shaken a bit, just to have something interesting happening.

So, thinking that Harry smiled too, in a way that perfectly mirrored his Guardian.

After all that talking and explaining the two of them left the bank, instead of going straight back to the Manor, they went in the Alley. Mr. Alastor wanted to buy some potion ingredients, and while he could have let the elves buy them, he preferred to control first-hand their quality. After all he wasn’t as lazy as most wizards were, that for all their internalized racism, left most of their tasks in the hands of what they saw as lowly creatures(such as elves or goblins).

As the passed in front of a shop that sold products for the care of magical plants, and gardens, a familiar voice stopped Harry on his tracks.

  
“Harry!” Neville came out of the crowd exiting the shop, smiling at him and waving his hand. As a more composed, and older woman followed him.

  
“Neville!” He called back, waving his hand at him, faking a happy smile. Still angry with his friend for not having answered his letter but not wanting to address the thing in front of so many people.

The Gryffindor smiled at him, hugging him tight for a moment. Before letting go a bit embarrassed by his lack of pureblood etiquette in public, he bowed his head a bit as he greeted Mr. Alastor.

“Well met to you too, Heir Longbottom” Mr. Alastor said, and if his words were a bit overly formal his smile and ever entertained expression were not.

The old woman that followed Neville looked at them with a slightly judging glare.

Neville, still slightly blushing from his embarrassment, quickly presented them the woman, that was his grandmother. Dowager Augusta Longbottom of House Longbottom.

Mr. Alastor gave a quick shallow bow with his head. “Lord Ancestor Alastor Osnell of the Noble House of Osnell and Overlord of the Third and Seventh Circles, well met Dowager Longbottom.” he said, his voice low enough that only they, Harry Neville and his grandmother, heard him as he casted a quick privacy spell wordlessly and wandlessly.

Neville’s Grandmother appeared impressed at both his manners and his show of magic knowledge and prowess.

Harry smiled slightly while he bowed a bit less shallowly than his Guardian had. “Heir Harry Potter-Osnell of the Noble House of Osnell and of House Potter, well met Dowager Longbottom.”

Neville’s eyes widened a bit as he understood the hidden meaning in his formal greeting, and Harry’s smile widened a bit, as he bit back the want to say: ‘ _I’m not only Mr. Alastor’s ward anymore_ ’. Staying silent as Neville congratulated them.

After some moment of discussion, the four decided to continue their talk in the nearby Fortesque’s ice-cream parlor, so that they could be less in the public eye and away from prying ears.

As Mr. Alastor and Neville’s grandmother talked so did Harry and Neville, that told each other about what had happened in their holidays until now.

“I’ve to ask you something Neville” Harry said, his voice a bit more serious than normal, Neville nodded a bit worried at the sudden seriousness in his friend voice. “Why didn’t you answer to any of my letters?”

Neville looked at him confused. “I… did? You didn’t answer mine, I send you two letters a week for the whole month but you didn’t answer any of them.”  
  


“I didn’t receive any letter, though…”  
  


“Uhm, that’s curious. You don’t have a mail sorting ward in your Manor, do you?” Neville asked, Harry shook his head. “That’s strange… maybe something is stopping my owl from giving you the letters?”

“Maybe, I haven’t received any letter from any of you” Harry paused for a bit. “We can try something. When I go back home, I’ll send you another letter, give your answer to Husk, let’s see if it’s only for your owl or if it is for the letters.”

“Okay, I’ll do it.” Neville answered smiling as Harry smiled back.

And then they continued talking of other things. Harry feeling a bit reassured that at least one of his friends hadn’t forgot about him.

* * *

Just as he promised after he and Mr. Alastor had gone back to the Raven Nest’s Manor, and after lunch, he sent Neville a test letter.

A few hours later Husk returned, a letter on his leg tied with the spelled ribbon, his claws and beak stained in dark-ish blood.

“Something attacked you, Husk?” he asked softly at his raven as he untied the ribbon, Husk cawed appearing as if he was shacking his head. Not attacked then, but _something_ had tried to stop him from giving him his letter. And Sasha slithered back from Harry’s shadow.

§ _Are this your friend’s words, Harry?_ §  
  
Smiling as he read the answer from Neville, Harry nodded.

§ _So there is something blocking your friends’ words from arriving..._ §  
  


§ _It appears so...I’ve to ask you something. Do you think you can identify what tried to stop Husk?_ §  
  


Sasha hiss-laughed arrogantly § _Of course I can, if he lets me smell the blood_ §

Harry softly talked to his raven distracting him, as Sasha slithered closer, smelling the blood with his forked tongue. § _Its the same smell of the little creatures with the long ears and big eyes§_

Harry frowned. _An elf? An elf was taking his friend, maybe his friends, post so that he didn’t receive it? Why?_  
§ _Thank you, Sasha. This is very… interesting_.§


	26. Letters by Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry resolves the problem with the letters… _in a way_.

While still trying to resolve the enigma on why a house elf would try to stop his mail from reaching him, Harry and his friends(since he had sent other letters to them, telling them to send their answer via Husk) solved, or at least made better the situation without really knowing what other solution to use, the issue by sending their answer with Husk when the raven came with another letter from Harry, though that made the time between each answer longer, since Husk made almost the double of the work and as such had to stay in the owlery to rest a bit more than usual.

In the meantime, Harry also continued honing his hunting skills, to the point that he and Sasha were so coordinated that he didn’t even need to hiss to Sasha for the snake to understand what he wanted. And he and Sasha had also talked more about the snake’s past, though he never answered any question about from where his previous Speaker was or what his name was.

Mr. Alastor had been busy with the Wizengamot question, having to reactivate the Osnell’s seats, and to gain back their control since they had been divided in between some newer proxies families that had claimed the seats as distantly related cousins of the main branch of the House since it had until now lacked of a Lord.

And he was also preparing something, but anytime Harry asked the man would have just smiled and told him that it was a surprise.

So Harry stopped asking even though he was very curious about that.

Now, with Sasha coiled around him, telling him some story about his previous Speaker, the snake was very fond of the man and didn’t mind sharing their stories with him, even in a way to be sure that somebody else of his kind, a human and a wizard, would remember him other than his snake, Harry read Draco’s letter.

Draco had been in France for the last two weeks, because their family wanted to keep in contact with the original French branch of the Malfoy’s family, and while Draco had liked the sights and the differences between Wizarding Britain and Wizarding France, he had written to Harry that the French wizards were even more boring than the British.

Harry had smirked at that, evidently he had started rubbing off his views on life on his friend too, just as e had picked it up from Mr. Alastor’s attitude.

Then his attention focused back on Sasha’s story. § _Wait, your previous Speaker’s parent fought in the Wizarding World War against Grindelwald?_ § he asked, his tongue curling strangely to say the snake equivalent of the name ‘ _Grindelwald_ ’, it was strange that the snake even had a sound for the dark lord’s name, but then magical snake did pick up things from their speaker talking their human tongues.

§ _Yess_ § Sasha hissed proudly § _They showed it to those blond-scaled Germans._ §

_There went one of his theories_ . So the man Sasha so fondly spoke about wasn’t German, well  Harry had still a fair share of other possibilities to pick from. § _From your sound, I guess you don’t like Germans?_ §

§ _No, they killed my previous Speaker’s parent, leaving him to fare winter all alone!_ § Sasha answered swiftly his tone as harsh as a snake could make § _It was so cold, and he was so, so alone… his familial nest-mate died that winter, they were weaker then him…_ § Sasha paused for a moment § _He found me then when he went to hunt, desperate… I helped him as I helped you, but we didn’t find enough preys to keep him healthy… So he had to do what we snakes do when winters are to harsh, I now recognize that humans don’t do that, that it is unnatural for them, but he_ had to _..._ § 

It took only a moment for Harry to get what Sasha was implying. He caressed the snake head, though he himself thought like the snake, there was nothing wrong, Hell the man, whoever he was, had been forced by circumstances. While Harry wanted to, to gain the immortality that would let him stay by his Guardian, his parent for the rest of eternity. § _I don’t judge him. It be… hypocritical if I did_ .§ He hissed, almost murmuring to the snake, like he was trying to hide a secret.

§ _I see… I guess, I do have a particular kind of Speaker that his adaptable to my presence in their darkness._ § Sasha hissed back, his tone  was tinted by a  bit of amusement. Harry  almost asked what he meant with that, but the snake talked before he had any chances. § _So… what has you blond-scaled friend send you word of?_ §

And Harry understood from the change of subject that Sasha didn’t want to talk more about this particular argument, at least for now. So he just accepted the change and told his snake about what Draco had written him, before writing a reply to him. And starting to read the letter that Matt had sent him, the letter was… well longer than the ones that Draco and Neville had sent him, in it Matt told him of what had happened during this first almost two months(since now Harry’s birthday was nearing, and really time did fly when one was having fun) of summer vacation, he also wrote him his mother’s reaction when he told her that he now knew the name of the Bayou Demon, which had Harry snickering slightly at the retelling of the event. And he told him that for next year he would have brought with him some spices mix from his mother, so that if they did actually found the kitchens (since they hadn’t managed the year before) they could give them to the house elves of Hogwarts, so that they could prepare their version of Cajun plates at least with the right spiciness.

Harry smiled at that in part for what was written and in part for the fact that his friends were actually writing him, in retrospect his first month of summer vacation had been tainted by his belief that his friends weren’t actually his friends at all and that they had forgotten him. Luckily now he knew that it wasn’t true, though it reminded him of the ‘Mysterious House Elf Problem’ that he had yet to resolve, and to be perfectly honest that little thing had to pray he didn’t find it, because Harry wouldn’t have been kind for the fact that it had hidden and blocked and touched his mail… and he was starting to get quite the taste for killing after all this weeks of training, and actual hunts, in the forest around the Manor.

§H _ey_ _Sasha_ § 

§ _Yes?_ §   
  
§ _Do you think that House Elves scream when you kill them?_ §


	27. First step into darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Harry’s Birthday and Alastor has a surprise for him.

Summer’s days were flying by fast for Harry, in fact it was already the end of July, his birthday, even though to Harry it seemed like he had left Hogwarts only a few days ago.

Harry’s birthday had never been really special before Mr. Alastor came into the picture of his life, they had always been blank and dull, just like his life before.

Honestly when Harry thought of his life before he met Mr. Alastor, everything he remembered was like filtered by a grayish, fulling cinematographic filter, as the one used in movies to define a sad scene of the past, while his most recent memories were all bright if tinted by a hint of deep ruby red, a color that Harry loved since he was eight.

This year though it appeared that Mr. Alastor had done even more than usual to assure that his birthday was special, the first surprise of the day had been an outfit, a pinstriped red suit identical to that of Mr. Alastor but in his size, the only difference was that instead of the black upside-down cross on his light red shirt there was a black curved line looking like a snake coiling around something, it reminded Harry of Sasha. As if he knew that Harry was thinking of him Sasha slithered out of his shadow.

§ _Happy hatch-day, little Speaker!_ § the snake hissed happily, coiling around one of the poles of the bed, with how he was posing, Sasha almost looked like the biblical depiction of the snake in Eden. Smirking in the way that only a snake could, showing his obsidian-looking fangs, his eyes burning of a fiery yellow-orange.

§ _Thank you, Sasha_ § he hissed back smiling, while he finished dressing up. Sasha then complimented him for his appearance, before hissing something about ‘ _hoping that his hair wouldn’t turn snow white after the Turnin_ g’ but before he could ask what he meant Sasha had slithered back into his shadow. Just as mysterious as always.

The question about what he meant all but left his mind, when after joining Mr. Alastor for breakfast, the man informed him that his friends would have been joining him soon for the day until the late evening. Harry had been overjoyed, _so that had been the surprise Mr. Alastor had been working on_ and had thanked the man that just smiled, in that slight soft way that made his smile look realer than usual.

After breakfast Harry waited anxiously for his friends to arrive, Mr. Alastor had smiled and joked a bit about his anxiousness, saying that it made him look like a little kitten, or a fawn waiting for its playmates. Harry had puffed up a bit, saying that he didn’t look like a kitten but smiled nonetheless.

  
The first of his friends to arrive by floo was Matt, he appeared in between the rapidly flashing blue flames of the fireplace, coughing up a bit of soot, before going to hug him and telling him ‘ _Happy birthday_ ’, then he turned to greet Mr. Alastor.

The second to arrive was Neville, whom was dressed a bit to over-formal for his usual style or in respect to Matt, he greeted Mr. Alastor and then wished Harry a ‘ _Happy birthday_ ’.

“Why the formality, Nev?” Asked Matt, hinting at his dress-robes. Neville looked down to the deep red carpet.

  
“My Gran insisted” he answered, just as the third of them arrived.

Draco Malfoy was dressed just as formally as Neville if not more, and if his slight embarrassment was something to take consideration of, it had been his parents to tell him to dress that way, probably to impress the new Lord Ancestor of House Osnell, or maybe just to show-off.

“’kay, I retreat my previous statement. Draco is the one dressed more formally ‘ere” said Matt, while Neville gave to Draco a little pat on the shoulder as he understood how the other was feeling.

  
Draco then greeted Mr. Alastor, with his usual formality, before turning to Harry wishing him a ‘happy birthday’ in the Wizarding way that was more of a blessing that just a wish. Harry thanked him as he had done with the others.

The last to arrive were the Lawrence twins, they were just as Matt dressed a bit more casual, and  brought with them two presents covered in satin blue and bronze paper. They greeted Mr. Alastor first, and then wished Harry a ‘Happy birthday’ them too in the Wizarding way.

Mr. Alastor reminded them of the time he had decided with their parents for them to go back, and then smiled at Harry, before leaving them. Knowing that for how much they were used to his presence, the fact of being in his home made them a bit nervous.

“I’ve missed you so much, guys!” Harry told them, giving a hug to each one of them, Draco stilled a bit in the hug before hugging him back. “I mean with all the ‘House Elf hiding my mail’ thing, I though you all had forgotten to send me letters… so I’m so happy to see you all here!”

“’f course we’d send you letters, Harry.” Matt said then smirked a bit “At least I sure would you are my best friend after all!” 

The Lawrence twins made a theatrically offended face. “We are his best friends too!” 

“’m more” Matt said smirking.

For a moment there was silence then the three laughed and so did the others.

“So, it was a house elf? One of yours?” Draco asked, taking something from his dress-robe pocket and unshrinking it, he had brought a present to, slightly smaller than the two brought by the Lawrence twins, it was wrapped in silver paper.

Harry shook his head. “No, still have to figure out the who and the why.” he answered.

“We’ll work together on this… we can find out from where that House elf came from… but for now we are here to celebrate your birthday, Harry” Neville said.

Harry’s smile widened a bit, he had never had friends come over for his birthday, this was the first time and he was so happy to have actual friends no. He’d protect them from anything, he promised himself.

  
“I brought you something” Neville said after a moment, unshrinking a present with just a flick of his wand, and a muttered spell, just as Draco had done before.

“Thank you, Neville, guys… really I don’t know what to say to you...I…”

“Well you can see the presents, yes? No need to thank us, you are our friend” Constance said.

Harry nodded, smiling so much that his cheeks were hurting a bit, but he didn’t care about that because he was so, so happy.

He accepted Neville gift, starting to unwrap it as they sat on the couch and armchairs in the informal parlor. 

Neville’s present was a book on the different effects that wands made of magical woods could have on spells.

“I saw you search for books about this in the library so… I thought you’d like it..” he explained, Harry thanked him again, caressing the leather cover of the book for a moment, as Draco gave him his present, which was a wand holster made in fire salamander skin.

  
“It can fit even in your suit sleeve, it’s charmed for it…” 

Harry thanked him, trying the holster immediately, it felt good knowing that this way he had a n even quicker access to his wand, in case something like what had happened with Professor Quirrel happened again.

Then it was the turn of the Lawrence twins, which had brought him a gift each. Erik had gifted him a collection of rare editions of books about creatures, dark and light, since he knew about his interest in them, while Constance had gifted him a spell book, which didn’t contain only so-called light spells knowing of his stance on light and dark magic, and a little wooden cube.

“It’s charmed you can turn it in anything you want to practice your spells, just think of what you want and put the cube and the ground then point your wand at it and say ‘ _imitatio exsistit_ ’ and it will turn into whatever you had imagined”

Harry thanked them too, thinking about all of the spells, darker spells that Mr. Alastor had taught him (that didn’t have a real incantation but that were brought forward by the desire to inflict pain or suffering to something) that he could try on the magical dummy.

Than it was Matt’s turn. He gave him a little box, like the one in which you would put a ring, inside there was a fine silvery chain with a dagger, or maybe a sword, shaped charm in the center. 

“You can turn it into a real dagger, or sword, it depends on your intent, whenever you want to and the chain has some protective charms on it to protect you from dangerous spells…after the Troll thing and the thing with the professor possessed by Voldemort, I… I just want to know you’d be _safe_ even if Mr. Alastor isn’t there.” he said.   
Harry thanked him and hugged him tightly.

He really was almost overwhelmed by how caring his friends where… _he’d never. They were…_ He didn’t know what to say so he smiled. And talked to them, after asking Flimsy(another of their House Elves) to bring his presents into his room.

“I’ve to… tell you something” he said after a while, after they had talked of their holidays, after they asked Harry how it had been to actually hunt something in the muggle way (he had told them he had asked Mr. Alastor if he could teach him to hunt, but didn’t tell them why).

His friends looked at him, as if confused by his sudden seriousness.

“Just promise me you’d not hate me for what I’m gonna tell you” he added, his friends worried but nodded nonetheless. Harry remained silent for a while then he _hissed_ calling Sasha out of his shadow. His friends appeared alarmed by the snake appearing from the darkness. “Don’t worry, Sasha isn’t dangerous to you.” he said.

Sasha slithered around a bit. § _Are this your friends, Harry? They look so… small._ § the shadow python asked.

§ _They are my friends… Small? They are even taller then me._ §

§ _They look… like preys, you don’t. Bar for the boy near you, the one that smells of spices._ §

§ _Matt?_ §

§ _He looks more like you, but they can change… you are their friend after all._ §

“Harry?” Matt called. “What ‘re you two talkin’ about?”

“Sasha was curious of who was which… he knew your names but he didn’t know to whom the names applied to” Harry lied smoothly, though he didn’t like to lie to his friends, he thought that they would have found disturbing if he told them that a snake saw them as preys. Even though he didn’t saw Matt as the others… which was _curious_.

“Where did you… _met_ him?” Erik asked interested now that his fear had calmed down.

“In the forest that surrounds the Manor, during my first hunt.” Harry answered, as Sasha preened under the attention even letting Draco pet his scaled head. Then his friends started asking more about Sasha, the snake soaking up all the attention as the vain being he was.

_Maybe this was the best birthday he had ever had, with his friends and his snake_ .

* * *

It was late evening, when his friends returned to their homes. Mr. Alastor had joined them some time in the afternoon, ‘ _just so that they could tell their parents that he had been there checking on them_ ’ he had joked. All in all it that been really his favorite birthday.

“Now it’s time for the last surprise, dear” Mr. Alastor said, after all of Harry’s friends had gone away. “You’ll love it.” the man added, as he guided him in the underground floor of the Manor. “I’d love to see you hunt this kind of prey in the wild but it’s still too early, though I wanted you to have your _first taste_ …” 

They neared a dungeon looking part of the floor, and then to one of the cells.

  
There was someone there, whimpering and cowering and scared.

  
Mr. Alastor smiled sadistic at the sound, as he opened the door. A young man, in maybe his twenties was on the stone floor, looking up at them in pure fear, he didn’t appear to be hurt, but Harry knew that his Guardian shadows, or his Guardian himself, knew how to terrify someone without even touching them, instilling in them the fear of…  _well, Mr. Alastor_ .

“Young and healthy, I’d pick only the best for you, my dear” Mr. Alastor said, his voice low almost purring with its static-y quality.

The scared man whimpered and pleaded. For just a moment Harry had pity for him, but then if he didn’t do this…  _how could he be sure to never be alone again? No, he needed to do this, to become immortal for Mr. Alastor, for himself so that he had never had to stay alone again_ .

Mr. Alastor lent him his goblin-forged dagger. Harry took it, smile still on his face as he neared the young man, who whimpered and tried to fight but for as stronger as he was in respect of Harry, he couldn’t stop the inevitable.  
  
§ _Sasha, could you please stop him, he is squirming to much._ § 

  
Sasha hiss-laughed, as he coiled around the man, blocking his arms against his chest with his strong coils of solidified darkness.

With his objective first in his mind, Harry slit the man throat. Mr. Alastor smiling, laughing delighted at the show of ruthlessness. 

Human blood tasted… salty and coppery but it was also…  _sweet_ . 

_And Magic accepted his sacrifice_ … not of the man he had just killed but of _his own soul_ , a flash of darkness lapsed in front of Harry’s eyes. 

§ _Red, I should have guessed._ § Sasha hissed and that was the last thing Harry heard before fainting.


	28. Better than before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry starts to know the changes brought by the Turning

When Harry woke up it was the day after his birthday, and the first thing he noticed, apart from the fact that he was in his room, was how clear the objects around him looked like, even clearer than when he had his glasses on. If he looked intently to the wall he could even see the almost invisible line of junction of the stripes of wall paper, or the crisscross of the fiber of the covers on his bed, and all of this in the dark of his room since the curtains were still drawn.

The second was a faint smell of blood and spices and shoe polish coming from a corner of his room, he looked up and staring at him shrouded in darkness, with only his glowing eyes and glinting smile visible there was Mr. Alastor.

“Good morning, dear.” He said as soon as he noticed that he was awake. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel well, Mr. Alastor… hm… maybe a bit hungry?” Harry answered, noticing only now that he was feeling not just a bit but quite hungry like he hadn’t eaten for days. Mr. Alastor’s smile turned into a smirk.

  
“I can imagine, dear. Well luckily for you I have already prepared breakfast, I will wait for you in the dining room, so you have all the time to get acquainted with the changes you went through yesterday.”

Those words brought forth the memory of yesterday, of the party with his friends… of his first, deliberate murder, bringing with the image the memory of how sweet the blood of his first victim tasted like which made him even hungrier than he already was.

 _Was that normal? Probably_ … He thought of asking to Mr. Alastor but the man had already left, he’d ask him during breakfast Harry decided.

Harry got up and opened the curtains, even though he could see practically perfectly even in the dark, hissing in a snake-like fashion when light hit his eyes, it was much brighter than he was used to, or at least it felt so. It took him a few moments to get used to the light, to keep his eyes open with that brightness without his eyes hurting. _Did Mr. Alastor always felt like that? Probably not_ , the boy answered his own question, _it was more likely that he was feeling this because he had just started changing_.

It was only when he looked at himself in the mirror that Harry realized that the change hadn’t been only of his senses, and that in fact he didn’t have his glasses on though he could see perfectly so he didn’t mind the change at all. His hair were… _red_ , the same deep almost unnatural red of Mr. Alastor’s hair, and just as his they faded in black near the points, he also looked paler, but that could have been also the fact that he hadn’t really left the Manor all that much and the forest was almost always shrouded in a dense, almost misty, darkness. His eyes were… _mostly_ the same, if one was to ignore the almost unnoticeable flakes of red that mixed perfectly with the green of his irises, but he was more than certain that only he and Mr. Alastor, and maybe Sasha, would notice the difference since it was so… _subtle_.

As he got ready for the day, dressing up in one of his reddish, simpler suits after a shower, he heard a faint sound, like a whisper of wind and saw Sasha slither out of his shadow, he had never noticed that the snake made a sound when he slithered out of his shadow, it had always seem silent to him… _before_.

§ _How are you, young Speaker?_ § Sasha asked, Harry answered in the same way he had with Mr. Alastor, and the snake hiss-laughed a bit at the answer. § _Can imagine, you changed that consumes a lot of energy. I’ve to say, Harry, red suits you_ .§  
  
§ _Thank you, Sasha._ § Harry answered with a smile, at that he remembered the strange comment the snake had made yesterday morning. § _Were you referring to this when you talked about ‘_ hoping that my scales didn’t turn snow white _’?_ §

Sasha nodded in his way, which was a slight downward inclination of his head for a moment. § _Yes, my previous Speaker’s scales_ _became white after the Turning, and while that suited him, I didn’t think it would suite you_.§

§ _I thought he had done only what he had to survive?_ § Harry asked as he left his room, Sasha draped on his shoulders, he felt lighter than before or _maybe it was Harry that was stronger?_

§ _He did, but then he realized he liked the taste. So he decided to hunt… You know, Harry, I almost hoped that my influence would have been enough to help you get his eyes, he... had the_ most beautiful violet eyes _I’d ever saw..._ § The way Sasha’s voice got quieter and quieter as he spoke was the saddest he had heard from the snake since he had met him, Sasha always appeared delighted in talking about his previous Speaker, always telling him that he would have loved to know that Sasha told of him to another ‘ _friend_ ’. But he didn’t now, he appeared sad, reminiscing of a man that though Harry had never, and could never, met, he felt like he knew him.

§ _I haven’t completed Turning, Sasha, there is time… besides there are charms too._ § Harry said, wanting to comfort the snake, to have him return to his usual happier self.

§ _You would..?_ § Sasha asked incredulous, maybe a bit hopeful. § _You don’t have to, I can understand that you would want to look like your parent..._ §.  
Harry didn’t say anything just smiled to Sasha, his snake, his friend, he wasn’t like the adders in the forest, he was _his_ … and _Harry would have done anything for who, and what, he saw as his_.

* * *

True to his words, Mr. Alastor was waiting for him in the dining room, reading the Daily Prophet, just as last time they had made the front page with their apparition in Diagon Alley last month, and just under the article about them there was another one titled ‘ _**Founder of the Dark Faction, the Noble House of Osnell has made a new appearance in the Wizengamot, but who is its mysterious Lord?** _ ’, Harry smiled at that, almost snickering at the fact that they didn’t know that the public already knew the ‘ _mysterious Lord of the Noble House of Osnell_ ’.

At his arrival in the room, Mr. Alastor put the newspaper on the table, after having neatly folded it, they greeted each other once again, as the elves brought, or to be precise Appeared, their plates.

Their breakfast was mostly meat based this time, with just a serving of white rice and egg on the side, it smelled… _delicious_ , Harry could also smell a familiar sweetness in between the spices, though he wasn’t sure from where he knew that smell.

Harry ate his breakfast faster than he would have done normally, though just as neatly, because of how hungry he felt. The rice and egg as delicious as they were didn’t do much for his hunger, but the meat did the trick, it tasted even better than before, tender and just the right amount of spicy and… _slightly swee_ t, he knew that flavor he _knew_ …

“Is this…?”

“Your prey? Yes, it is.” Mr. Alastor answered, smiling just as he always did. “It’s sweet, is it not?” He asked Harry nodded “Fear and pain make humans taste better, while they make animals taste bitter. _It is curious_ , don’t you think?”

Harry nodded once again as he finished his breakfast, in the back of his mind he thought that he should have been feeling something at the thought of eating human meat but he didn’t, or well, he did feel something but the feeling was dull and numb, just like all the other feelings he had that weren’t connected to Mr. Alastor, Sasha or his friends.

_It was so… strange._

“Do not worry, darling. The numbness will lessen, it is just the first stage for the making of a perfect hunter.” Mr. Alastor said, as if he had heard his thoughts. “Though _it will never go away._ ”


	29. Meet the Author

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry meets the author of the books needed for DADA.  
> He is not impressed

It was the second to last day of Summer when the letter containing the list of books for the second year at Hogwarts. Harry had been quite confused by the books listed for Defense, from the titles they appeared more like fiction books, than something useful to really learn the subject. He hoped that even if the professor who had substituted Quirrel’s substitute (who had mysteriously disappeared, some thought because of the curse on the Defense post) was a fan of this Gilderoy Lockhart, they would be at least competent in their subject.

As they arrived by shadow-travel in Diagon Alley, Harry was suddenly surrounded by smells and sounds that he hadn’t noticed before, even the colors appeared too vibrant in his eyes, Mr. Alastor put his hand on his shoulder.

“It is alright, dear. Close your eyes and tune out the surplus, none of this, of them are prey” he whispered.

And Harry did as he said, closing his eyes and with a few deep breaths he managed to ‘tune out’ all the things–sounds, details and smells– that were not of use now, since he wasn’t here to hunt any of the wizards here.

“Feeling better?”

“Yes, much better” Harry answered, Mr. Alastor smiled softly at him, then they entered the actual Alley, the busy crowd of wizards, all dressed in different colors and patterns, divided like the waves did for Moses, letting them a wide breadth of space. Whispers arose, but this time Harry didn’t really care about what they thought, he and Mr. Alastor were better than them, at least they didn’t judge people based on the ‘purity’ of their blood.

As they went about buying the necessary supplies(if of a better quality than those suggested), Harry noticed a slight barely there, softly glowing outline around the people they met. He asked Mr. Alastor.

“Those represent theirs souls, most people’s souls are gray or of a dark-ish gray, after all nobody apart from children has a really pure soul and be always on guard around people who’s soul is blackish or black. Those are dangerous.” Mr. Alastor explained in a whisper almost drowned out by the natural static-ness of his voice.

Harry nodded and looked curiously to the people around them, just as Mr. Alastor had said most of the people around them were outlined by a grayish or dark gray color, with some rare exceptions of almost white, not many had a soul that looked near black at least non here in Diagon Alley.

As they walked towards  Flourish and Blotts , they met Neville and Matt, the two had encountered before in a nearby shop and had decided to buy the rest of the supplies together.

They both greeted Mr. Alastor before talking with him.

  
“Harry! ‘Almost didn’t recognize you, ya look so much like your Guardian now” Matt said after hugging him, Matt’s mother that was just a few steps behind shook softly her head with a smile at her son actions, all the while looking warily at Mr. Alastor.

Mr. Alastor took the moment and wary gaze to present himself at the woman, which accepted his greeting with a bit of hesitance.

“Mom is afraid of the Bayou Demon… she grew up hearing so many horror stories ‘bout him” Matt explained in a low voice at Harry’s questioning gaze. “But ‘bout your appearance, how do you look so much like him now?” Matt asked then

“Did… did Mr. Alastor blood adopt you?” Neville asked at the same time, timidly whispering his question since Blood Adoption, even if recognized by the Ministry, was basically outlawed as most blood rituals.

Seeing Neville question as a way to avoid telling his friends about his decision, for now, Harry nodded happily. Neville hugged him tightly then, telling him how happy he was for him and wishing them all the good in the world, Matt did the same even though he was a bit confused about the ‘ _blood adoption_ ’ part, but understanding that that meant that Mr. Alastor was now, like actually, Harry’s father.

Harry hugged back his friends joyously, then still talking about different things, so to not attract the already on them attention of others more, they went into the bookshop. Going to buy the books they needed for the year.

  
“Do you think our new professor is obsessed with this… Lockhart?” Harry asked as he looked in distaste at cover of one of the book titled ‘Break with a Banshee’ that had said Lockhart painted on in front of a too beautiful banshee, Harry had seen illustrations of banshees and none of them looked so… beautiful as the one painted on the cover.

“They probably are, though seriously thirty-five galleons of books… for just one class is outrageous” Neville said as he picked up the books too. Matt just nodded looking at the books with veiled disgust. 

When they were getting ready to pay the books and leave, they noticed that an even denser crowd was crowding the front of the bookshop, curiously with their books reduced and in their bags, the three went to look at the reason of the crowding. 

There was a man in front of the shop, with golden blond hair, blue eyes and dressed with the most eye-catching robes than any of them had ever seen, the lilac robe glimmering with golden highlights at any movement.

It took just a moment for them to understand who the man was, since they had saw his face in every one of their Defense books. Gilderoy Lockhart, which was parading himself in front of the cameras as a vain peacock would, droning on and on about his books. Then he noticed Harry, or to be preciser he noticed the scar, for Harry didn’t look like he was before, the man smiled widely at him, in a way that almost made Harry cringe away. Harry was used to people smiling, Mr. Alastor smiled always but the smile on that man face looked to plastic, perfect in the way on lies were.

The man whispered: “Give them a  n ice big smile, Harry, together, you and I are worth the front page.”,  as he brought him in front of the crowd and the reporters. Mr. Alastor’s static grew slightly louder, making some people jump in surprise and fear, Matt’s mother started muttering something under her breath as Matt tried to tell her that they weren’t in any danger.

Harry ripped his arm out of the man’s grip,  to avoid the moment from escalating for Mr. Alastor was looking at Lockhart with murder in his eyes for having basically pulled him away from him , and still smiling at the cameras he whispered:

“ _Touch me again and I’ll gauge your eyes out_ ” 

To his credit, Lockhart continued smiling for the press, gifting Harry his books as he announced loudly that he had been chosen to be the new professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts of Hogwarts, but Harry could see that his threat had unnerved the man greatly for he  refrained to even brush accidentally against him.

Harry’s smile widened again, and he even waved  for some of the pictures with a picture perfect smile of those that one would see in movies.

When he joined his friends, and Guardian who finally calmed down, the static quieting finally, he sighed.

“Guess we are left with him…as our teacher.” he muttered displeased.

“Yeah, let’s hope he is good as his books say” Matt added.

“What do you intend to do with those books he gifted you?” Neville asked

“Don’t know… _Wait_ , your friend, the Weasley boy, do you think he’d like to have them? I think you mentioned something about his family… and I don’t think he would accept my gift since he doesn’t know me” Harry said, Neville nodded and accepted the books saying that he would give them to Ron as soon as he got home.

It was only when Mr. Alastor and him got back to the Manor that Harry thinking back at the man, displeased by the fact that he was going to be their teacher, that noticed something.   
  
_Gilderoy Lockhart outline had been almost completely black_ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be the start of the Second Year.


	30. The New School Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry’s first days of the Second Year at Hogwarts are… surprisingly normal.

The new year at Hogwarts had started well, Harry had arrived to the magical part of King’s Cross by shadow-travel quite early to meet his friends before boarding the train,  and the year also started interestingly with Harry discovering that he wasn’t the only one that could see the Thestrals that were trailing the carriages that brought them to Hogwarts, in fact Matt and the Lawrence twins and even Draco were able to see them. While Matt and the twins didn’t want to say why, Draco told them that he had seen his grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy, pass away from the dragon pox when he was little. 

They weren’t the only ones to see them, in fact they noticed a girl, Luna Lovegood she told them, talk with them.

The Thestrals appeared confused, if happy at the attentions the  five students  gave them, while the others around them looked who confused, who scared at the prospect that their carriages were trailed by so-called omens of death.

Harry whispered something to the tie-pin knowing that Mr. Alastor could hear him even though he wasn’t in the tie-pin at the moment, since he had to take care of some Lord of the Wizengamot duty.

The welcome feast was as grand as that of the first year, only that this time the table of Ravenclaw had some additional plates, in a mix of British and Cajun cuisine instead of only British. The older years, and the first now second year, rejoiced in seeing it. While the new first year was confused by the reaction of the other Ravenclaws, one of the now-second year students told the story of how Harry and Matt had talked so much to any elves they got to meet to add some other plates to the feasts until they got what they wanted.

At the same time the other Ravenclaws congratulated Harry, happy that their housemate had been adopted by his Guardian. One of them, a Fifth year that looked remarkably similar to Percy Weasley(they were apparently distant cousins), joked about ‘ _how the Headmaster had looked like he was gonna faint when he saw Harry_ ’.

When the new Defense professor was presented most of the boys and, surprisingly, even the girls groaned at the show of excessiveness from their new Professor, while some of the girls appeared star-struck by the man too white, too perfect smile.

When the feast ended and the Houses went to their dormitory the House of Ravenclaw honored their own personal tradition, that had started after the Troll accident of the year before, which meant that after the presentation speech, they remained in the common room talking to each other, asking how summer went to those they didn’t have letter correspondence to. All in all the new Ravenclaws found themselves in a House that was much more united, and much more of a real family than it had ever been. Harry noticed Luna, which was one of the new first years, talking to some of the other new years, and while some found  her strange, to the point that Harry had more than once almost acted annoyed by their attitudes, she quite easily won them over with her kindness.

Almost half an hour into midnight the Ravenclaw House finally retired to their dorm rooms, after wishing each other a good night.

The next few days of the beginning of the term passed quickly for Harry, even though the lessons with Lockhart were extremely boring after his first failed attempt at an actual lesson with some practical value, in fact there were still some pixies hiding in the Defense class, the little pests some times even stole things: parchment, ink wells, and others from the students who quickly learned to temporarily stick them to their desks with some sticking-charms. Harry had more than once captured one of those little pests when they neared him, usually he just silenced them and squished them, some other times he discretely threw them in his shadow so that Sasha could eat them. If Matt had noticed it he didn’t say anything.

Potions became even more strange since Professor Snape sometimes just froze when looking at him, like he was seeing him for the first time or as if he was seeing a ghost, a deep sadness in his onyx eyes, then his expression went blank and he continued explaining their lesson like nothing had happened even though everyone had noticed him stopping completely.

Mr. Alastor had come to visit more than once, appearing in the Ravenclaw’s Common Room, making some of the first years jump startled by his sudden appearance, bar from Luna that had been the only one with the braveness to actually talk to him the first time she saw him appear.

Harry and Matt had actually started their personal quest in search of the kitchen, in those free hours they had from school and homework, which had been fruitless for now. Though they had found many empty classrooms and secret passages that connected various points of the castle, even one, hidden behind some moving tapestry that from the highest point of the castle, near the Gryffindor tower, went down to the greenhouses. They had also more than once stopped by the second floor girl’s bathroom, that was basically unused by the students to talk with the ghost that resided there, that they had met during one of their walks. Myrtle was quite content of talking with them and more than once they had found her waiting happily for them to arrive.

Plus Myrtle was a Ravenclaw which meant that just as the others _she was part of their family_ , which was something they told her when she asked why they 'wasted' their time to talk with her.

She had cried then, and whispered them that she would have loved if Ravenclaw had been like this when she was alive. Matt and Harry hugged her as best as one could hug a ghost which meant that they just mimicked the gesture since she was immaterial.

After that it hadn't been rare to see Myrtle leave the bathroom that had been her residence for fifty years since her death and go to the Ravenclaw tower, happy to see that they welcomed her as though she were a student like them and not just a ghost.

All in all the year had started quite well, it was as… _normal_ as could be for him.

  
Making him think that _maybe this year would have been uneventful_.


	31. Stolen things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been almost a month since the Second year begun, and Harry’s things starts to go missing.  
> He thinks he knows what it's taking his things.

It took Harry a few days to notice that some of his things were going missing, at first it had b ee n just some empty slips of parchment, so he didn’t gave them much thought, thinking he had misplaced them somewhere. Then other things started disappearing, his notes,  some discarded essays everything that he didn’t put back in his trunk went in a way or the other missing.

And that was starting to irritate him, because no-one could enter in their room in the dorm, apart from his friends, and he really doubted that they would do something like this, or the house elves. And if it was some elf fault that he almost took a ‘T’ in Defense, of all things, he was going to find that little creature and turn it inside out with his own hands.

“Mr. Potter, _do you know what are we reading_?” the arrogant, tilted voice of Lockhart brought him back to reality, Harry gritted his teeth not wanting to snap to the man, and make his House lose points and at the same time to stop himself from trying to maim the arrogant peacock of a man that was talking to him.

“Of course, professor, we are reading about your search in the bogs to find the banshee” Harry answered, thanking mentally his enhanced sense of hearing for having let him listen to the man ramblings even though he was completely lost in his thoughts. Lockhart just nodded before returning to read from his book, he really loved the sound of his own voice, dear Merlin.

  
Matt sent him a worried glance and Harry just answered with a little gesture as if to say ‘ _we’ll talk about this later_ ’. His friend nodded.

Harry past the rest of the two hours of Defense, thinking of increasingly graphic ways of getting rid off the little pest that was touching his things.

“’re you alright, bud? It looks like you wanna kill someone…” Matt asked worried, as soon as they were out of the classroom.

“Because I want to” Harry answered, almost growled out, his smile thin and clearly forced.

Matt frowned even more worried, and the twins who had just joined them appeared just as worried.

“Is it for Lockhart?” Erik asked just as Constance said: “That man is insufferable, it’s not your fault, Harry.”

“I did that stupid assay. It stole it from me.” Harry said, his voice just a bit less growl-y than before but not of much.

“‘ _It_ ’? Is it the house elf again?” Matt asked.

Harry nodded. “Something is stealing my things from our dormitory, and I know that you guys wouldn’t, so… it must be _its fault_ , just like with the letters!” 

The other three nodded, then looked around for a moment, as if searching for somewhere to hide from the other students, not finding any good place, Constance just whispered very low: “Do you think Sasha could find it? He knows the elf smell, doesn’t he?” 

Harry appeared to think about it for a moment. “He does.” Then a quite cruel, quite Mr. Alastor like smile bent his lips. “We’ll trap the little thing, I’ve to get some answers from it before getting rid of it.” 

If his friends were in any ways unnerved by his words they didn’t show it, instead asking if they could help in any way, quite crossed with the elf themselves for having took their mails and made the start of the summer almost miserable for all of them.

* * *

“Honestly you should stop answering when he calls you just ‘Potter’” Draco said, as he wrote an annotation near one of the notes he took in class. “Lockhart should know better, already. Calling you just ‘Potter’ when you are in fact a Potter-Osnell is a lack of respect for you and your father, it’s like he thinks that Mr. Alastor isn’t and shouldn’t be your father. Which is outrageous.” he continued, stopping writing when he noticed that he was starting to stab the parchment instead of just writing on it.

Draco did feel strongly about certain things, and after learning a bit about Harry’s life before Mr. Alastor, he became even more convinced that Mr. Alastor deserved all the respect in this world, not only for being as powerful as he was ‘despite’ being a creature but also because he had saved a magical child, giving him the life he deserved. So it really irritated him when, during the Slytherin-Ravenclaw Defense classes, he heard Lockhart calling him only ‘Potter’.

“You would think that a man that has fought innumerable powerful beings, would know better than to disrespect one that is like the most powerful of them all. But no, he continues being so irritatingly obnoxious!” 

Draco’s tirade was stopped by Miss Price shushing him for having raised his voice in the library. Draco blushed a bit, before donning again the perfect pureblood mask.

Harry just gave him a half-hug to thank him for his words while his friends snickered a bit at the reaction that Draco had at the shushing. 

“I’d think that somebody with the reputation he as would look more like a soldier than a peacock but here we are…” Harry said. “I mean no self-respecting hunter would have hair so long, they’d got caught up in tree branches or give any hand-having creature a perfect way to pull him.”

“To be honest, I think he is just a fraud.” Constance said in a whisper.

“Yeah, he probably just stole some story he overheard from somebody.” Erik agreed. “He can’t even stop pixies… pixies! They are like I don’t know… bugs? It’s not that difficult to get rid of them.”

“On the plus side, at least Sasha as something to eat during his lessons, or he would go for the peacock” Harry said, laughing a bit at his own joke, stopping only when he noticed that apart from Matt nobody was laughing with him.

“Sasha doesn’t… like eat people right?” Draco asked a bit pale.

“No, he doesn’t… it… was just a joke.” Harry said, a bit disappointed that his friends were so scared at the suggestion. Well as Sasha said they were his friends and he had six more years to help them see things his way.

_ But first he had to take care of a certain unknown elf tonight. _


	32. A voice in the Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a voice coming from the walls.  
> And Harry doesn’t know if it’s a side effect of the Turning…  
> Or if it is… _real_.

It took Sasha three days to get the elf, to ensnare it well in his coils so that it could not apparate away, when he finally did he told Harry with a high whistling hiss, that awoke Harry’s friends to.

The elf, the mysterious elf that had irritated Harry since the start of summer, was a little, ugly thing, slimmer than Hogwarts’ elves, with big, scared eyes, floppy ears and dressed with just a flimsy gray rag, it looked pitiful, not that Harry had any pity for the creature.

“Who are you?” Harry asked, voice quiet and deadly. His eyes shone of the death curse and flakes of fire, a truly frightening sight that was just comparable to his father. The elf shook its head, shaking in fear, Sasha coiled a bit tighter, the elf yelped. “I said, who are you? Answer my question.” Harry ordered, this time the elf answered its high-pitched voice telling its name ‘Dobby’.

Matt and the Lawrence twins looked silently, not reacting even when the elf looked at them with pleading eyes.

“Who send you? And why did you take my things?”

“Dobby cannot say, Master Harry Potter. Dobby cannot say, but Dobby tried to protect Master Harry, Hogwarts is dangerous. Master Harry should have not come back.” the elf said, quickly, panicked.

“Dangerous? Are you, by chance, _threatening me?_ ” Harry asked, tilting his head to the side in a way that mirrored Mr. Alastor way of acting to a ‘t’. His voice remained quiet, if cold, his smile thinner and thinner.

“No! No! Dobby would never!” The elf squeaked as Sasha gripped him tighter, hissing dangerously, eyes of flashing purple.

“Then what do you mean? You think someone is trying to hurt me… _here_?”

The elf nodded as best as it could. “Dobby’s master got something dangerous in the school. It could hurt, Master Harry, and Dobby doesn’t want Master Harry to be hurt!”

Harry didn’t say a thing for a while. “You say your master is trying to hurt me, who is he?”

“Dobby cannot say, Dobby is a bad elf already for having acted against Dobby’s master will. Dobby cannot say more”

Harry just hummed at the words, hissing something under his breath, Sasha opened his jaws, threatening the elf with his long obsidian fangs.

The elf started shaking more.

“While I appreciate the sentiment of trying to protect me, I don’t need it. And you shouldn’t have touched my things, what did you think you would have got by doing that?”  
  
“D-Dobby hoped that… Master Harry wouldn’t have wanted to come back to Hogwarts if he believed that his friends had forgotten him… or that he would… retire to his home if things started going missing.”

“It’s a smart way of thinking, Dobby.” Harry praised, the elf eyes widened at the praise, and the elf started thanking Harry for his kind words, as if it had forgot in what situation it was. Harry smile turned cruel. “Sadly for you, that made me angry. _I really do not like thieves_.”

Constance and Erik adverted their eyes, turning their back on the scene while Matt continued staring as Sasha coiled and coiled around the elf, making its bones creak and snap, the miserable creature shrieked and tried to get away, but it was just… _too late_. The big, black snake unhinged his jaws, and then the elf was no more.

§ _Too bony_ § Sasha hissed after having eaten the elf § _Who ever its master was they didn’t feed him well..._ §  
  
§ _Sorry, Sasha_ § Harry told his snake “I’ll give you something better after, okay?” He said nonchalantly, his smile back to normal, his eyes still slightly glow-y.

“Was… that necessary?” Erik asked in an almost whisper. “I mean I get that you were angry with it… but it was just trying to help…”  
  
“I didn’t need its protection” Harry answered “Plus if he wanted it could have talked to me instead of stealing my things. Stopping your letters, like it had any right to do that.” he added, looking into his friends eyes. “You guys are my first friends, when I didn’t got you letters… I… I thought _you didn’t care about me_ , it hurt me. And it was all that _elf's fault_!”

Maybe it were the words or maybe the look in his eyes, but the twins and Matt hugged him tight, forgetting for the moment about the horrible death that that elf had had.

* * *

They were going through the hallways near the dungeons, Matt and Harry and the Twins too, searching for the kitchens in a way to distract themselves from what had happened during yesterday night.

Still they hadn’t found anything, apart from some other empty classrooms, honestly there were so many empty classrooms that the school could have given at least ten more kinds of lessons, all dividing them by House instead of making the Houses study together and there would have been still room for more.

Suddenly Harry stopped, his friends stopped with him.

A voice was coming from the wall, Harry went near it. ‘ _Rip, tear. So Hungry._ ’ this was what it said, repeating it until it disappeared.

“Harry’s all well?” Matt asked.  
  
“No… I heard a voice, coming from the wall.” Harry answered too shocked to thing of a way to cover up the fact.

“A voice? Like… a human voice? Or…?”

“I don’t know, it was just saying that it was hungry and to rip and tear something…” Harry answered truthfully.

His friends exchanged looks, but they didn’t seem like they didn’t believe him, no, it looked more like they were worried, than anything else.

“Maybe… maybe its a snake? You can understand them… so…” Erik said.

“In the walls?”

“Well, the piping from the bathrooms have to pass somewhere… Maybe a snake got trapped in them from outside.”

Harry nodded. “It… _could be_. Maybe the next time I should follow it, you know, to see if I can help.” he said. His friends nodded. And while they continued searching for the kitchens, at least until they had to go to their lessons, Harry hoped that Erik was right, that the voice was actually just a poor snake trapped in the piping, for he was afraid that it could have been some side-effect of the turning.   
His hunger that whispered him to ‘ _rip and tear’_ not that he would hurt his friends obviously they mattered to him, but… _anyone else_ … he really didn’t feel any qualms in hurting them.


	33. The Chamber of Secrets is Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Matt were just going to talk with Myrtle.  
> How could they have known…

Shy of a week had passed since the night in which Sasha had eaten the elf, Harry had noticed that the Lawrence twins that been a bit more distant than usual but not that much, he didn’t press about the issue though. Giving them all the time they needed to come to terms with what had happen.

He knew they would accept him, he didn’t have any doubts, after all, Matt had been with them and he had accepted it without even a thought, just a shrug of his shoulder and a ‘ _You sure Sasha won’t feel ill?_ ’, he didn’t care about the elf that much.

But he could understand that not all of his friends could be so readily accepting as him. Plus he had yet to tell Draco and Neville that the ‘elf problem’ was resolved, but they didn’t had really any time to meet, too busy doing homework and lessons, while Harry tried to understand if the voice he had heard from the wall was really a snake or if it was actually caused by the Turning.

He had even asked Mr. Alastor, but the man didn’t have any answer, telling him that while that hadn’t happen to him, the Turning of a Wendigo was different from people to people. So he had asked Sasha, which brought him to where he was now, in one of the empty classrooms, talking to his snake.

§ _I haven’t heard any sound from the walls..._ § Sasha said § _But it’s difficult to hear from your darkness when you are surrounded by so many sounds._ § he added after a moment.

Harry nodded. § _But… do you think that it could be my Turning?_ § he asked, Sasha appeared to ponder a bit. § _I asked my parent but he said that while to him, it didn’t happen, it could still be..._ §

§ _It could be_ § Sasha spoke up after some moments, slithering up the dusty desk and winging up like a rattlesnake preparing to strike, but in his case it was just to look him in the eyes. Sasha’s eyes were of a misty blue-violet as it got when he was looking in his past, thinking about his previous Speaker. § _My previous Speaker, he heard_ _sounds_ _when he first started Turning.§ Sasha said_ _§But those sounds… they were angry and hateful and spoke to him, he told me they sounded like his familiar nest-mates’ sounds. Did the sound remind you of a sound you know, Harry?_ §

Harry thought back at that moment, focusing on the voice but it didn’t remind him of no-one. §I _t doesn’t, but I heard it for only a few moments..._ §

Sasha made that little downwards movement with his head, a snake’s nod. § _Next time listen to it more attentively, I can’t say nothing more… I don’t know if it’s like what happened to my previous Speaker..._ §

§Who was he?§ Harry asked before he could stop himself, normally he would have more tact with Sasha, but he was tired and stressed out by the voice he had heard, and not knowing what that meant. §You never tell me.§  
  
Sasha remained silent, and for a moment Harry thought he was going to retract in his shadow ignoring the question completely. But he didn’t he remained like frozen in time for a moment.

§ _He was a good man, my Speaker, even though many considered him a monster..._ § Sasha said §H _e took care of me, as he did of the_ _nest_ _he created… but the other people of his nest… they s_ tank of Prey _, they were all so scared. I wouldn’t be surprised if I were to discovered that his nest was what betrayed him to his predators_ §Sasha hissed, almost angrily then he said noting more, telling Harry that he was feeling tired before going back in his shadow.  
Leaving Harry to  ponder  on why Sasha was so secretive of his previous Speaker.

* * *

It was the beginning of the afternoon, and Harry and Matt were going to the second floor girls’ bathroom to talk a bit with Myrtle, soon after having finished with the lesson hours of the day. They were chatting to each other when Harry heard it again, the voice from the walls, he stopped.  
  
“Harry?”  
  
“It’s… the voice, it’s back! We...we have to follow it!” Harry said, not waiting for an answer, following that guttural, droning voice that repeated itself continuously. Than they heard a ghostly yell, high pitched.

“Myrtle!”  
The two boys run towards the bathroom, it was empty except for the ghostly figure of Myrtle Warren, that looked at the wall with wide scared eyes. The boys looked were her eyes were fixed on the stone wall, written in red dripping blood, for Harry knew the metallic scent of blood, thought this was animal blood not human blood of that he was sure, there were the words: “ _The Chamber of Secrets had been opened. Enemies of the Heir… Beware_.”  
  
Myrtle continued staring, but it was clear she wasn’t seeing the words, muttering lowly the words: ‘ _yellow eyes, bright yellow eyes_.’ in repeat like a loop.

They didn’t have the time to ask her, what she had seen for in that moment Mr. Finch arrived, already gruffly reprimanding them, then he stopped. 

“Ms. Norris!” the man yelled, going to his black cat that the boys didn’t even see for how worried they were for their friend. “You… you killed her!” he accused them, hugging his still as dead cat to his chest.

The man almost attacked them, but luckily for him, as Sasha was reading himself to jump out of Harry’s shadow to attack him, Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall arrived.

Professor Snape blocked the man with a spell, while professor McGonagall asked them what was happening.

They explained that they had hear Myrtle yell and had run to here to see what had scared her so much and that when the arrived Ms. Norris was already… like she was. 

All the while Mr. Flinch yelled that they were lying that they had killed his cat.

“She is not dead, Flinch” Professor McGonagall said after looking at the cat. “But she looks otherwise paralyzed.”  
  
“It was them! They did it!” Mr. Flinch said once again.

“We should show this to the Headmaster, he could know how to resolve this.” Professor Snape said, as calm as always. “Mr. Hethe,… Mr. Potter-Osnell” he said after, pausing for a while as he called Harry, his eyes refusing to look at him “Come with us to the Headmaster office.” 

The two boys nodded, glancing to their still scared and panicked, ghostly friend before following the two professors and Mr. Flinch who looked at them with distrust. 

When they arrived at the Headmaster’s office, they were let in almost immediately. On the Headmaster desk there were some unidentified tomes all with the most anonymous covers, the man appeared more tired than the last time Harry had seen him.

Headmaster Dumbledore let them sit, and then asked what had happened, and Harry was irked by the disappointed look the man sent him.  _Did he really believe that he’d do that? Why would he?_

Harry and Matt told their side of the story too, yet the man didn’t look any less disappointed, if ever a concerned look appeared in his dull blue eyes, the twinkle completely gone. It was like he believed that they were lying, like he believed that they were hiding something.

Yet he pretended to believe them, and explained that the cat had been petrified, and that the spell was too dark for two students to know, and for how he said those words it was clear that he didn’t believe them even as he said them, and that an antidote in form of a potion had to be prepared for the cat to return back to normal.

Then Headmaster Dumbledore dismissed the professors and Mr. Flinch sending the latest to the infirmary, so that Madame Pomfrey could take care of his cat as the antidote was prepared, but told Harry, in particular, to stay.

“Do you have anything to tell me, Mr. Potter?” he asked.

“No, sir.” Harry answered just as quickly, he didn’t have anything to tell to the man that he hadn’t already said. “And it’s Potter-Osnell, Headmaster” he added, as the Headmaster dismissed them too.

The disappointed look in his eyes still clear in Harry’s mind even long after they had left.

“You think the Headmaster, believes we did somethin’ to Ms. Norris?” Matt asked him

  
“Yeah, didn’t you see how he looked at us?”

* * *

Meanwhile back in the office, Dumbledore stared blankly at one of the closed tomes, in his eyes clear the image of one Harry Potter, with red hair and deathly green eyes, that had looked at him  _coldly_ as he answered him. His voice calm and flat.

It  had been  like looking back in time, it  had been  like seeing young Tom Riddle again.

_ Had he really failed so much? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the chapter came a bit later than usual, but I've recived the wonderful news that an anime that I like a lot, and that was basically the first fandom I got in when I was a kid, is gonna get a new season so I was busy fangirling ^_^


	34. Rumors have it that....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the petrification of Ms. Norris, new rumors start to spread around Hogwarts.

As it did last year after the accident with the Troll, this year too, rumors started to spread around the castle after the event of Ms. Norris petrification became known, which was strange since the Headmaster had assured that the events would have remained a secret. Only that this time none of the rumors were in anyway positive for the subject around which they were built, which was saying something since one of the rumors of the previous year was that Mr. Alastor was the Devil.

This time though people whispered of ‘ _how it was expected that a boy who had grown up with a dark creature would came out like this_ ’ or of ‘ _how obvious it was that it had been Harry, after all Dark oozed out of him_ ’, but while some, see: the Ravenclaw House and his two not-Ravenclaw friends, didn’t believe to the rumors most of the school did, and Harry found himself shunned by most of the students. Who whispered behind his back, and got away from his path whenever he was walking.

It was starting to get on his nerves, he had always been nothing but just and friendly with the other students of the school so he couldn’t believe that they would treat him like this only for stupid unfounded rumors.

_He hadn’t hurt Ms. Norris, why would he? He didn’t even_ _really_ _care about Mr. Flinch’s cat,_ _even though_ _he_ _had_ _stopped Sasha from snacking on her when he had got hungry once,_ _mostly_ _because he knew that Mr. Flinch cared about Ms. Norris just as Harry cared about Sasha, which was a lot_.

Yet the school muttered and whispered against him, and while it was true that they didn’t know of Sasha, they should have seen that he had always treated that damned cat with the uttermost attention and care even when she had scratched him. But _No… of course he would have cursed the cat without a reason and at the same time killed the chickens from the grounds to write the words about the Chamber of Secrets on the walls, because it was possible…_ Harry stifled his urge to roll his eyes, at least to not let the professor know that he hadn’t listened to a word he had said.

At least one positive thing had happened, the twins weren’t so crossed with him anymore, yes, they were still a bit more distant than usual but not that much. They were coming around the fact that it didn’t matter if Harry had let Sasha eat the barmy elf for they didn’t even know that elf apart from the fact that he had hindered their communications at the start of summer and had stolen things from Harry. Plus they too knew that Harry didn’t harm things without a reason, he had a reason for the elf, but Ms. Norris? No, he didn’t have one so they believed him when he told them that it wasn’t his fault.

Mr. Flinch still sent him angry glares every time he saw him in the hallways, luckily for him he was smart enough to not do that when he saw Harry walk with Mr. Alastor in those times he came to visit, which right now where scarce since the Light Faction had proposed a new bill on dark creatures and the Wizengamot had more than one meeting to discuss it.

Mr. Alastor had told him, smiling with amusement, that looking at all those proper and frigid wizards shout and shriek at each other until they forgot of what even had been the discourse that started it all, was the most entertained he had ever been. So Harry was happy for his… _father_ ( _he still found incredible that he could call him that_ ) was at least entertained and not bored as he had feared. Which meant that he was in a good mood and when Harry had told him of the ‘Ms. Norris event’ he hadn’t turned outright murderous against the Headmaster, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t got irritated with the man for having possibly put him in danger ways again.

So Harry had now two Shadow Guardians that protected him, always following in the shadows of Hogwarts, since Sasha didn’t like share his shadow with anyone.

“Mr. Potter are y-” Professor Lockhart, _and wasn’t it curious that he always spaced out during his hours?_ , had started but got interrupted by Draco Malfoy, who apparently had enough of his ‘ _disrespecting Harry and his father_ ’ as he called it.

“Excuse me, sir, but it’s Potter-Osnell, not just Potter” Draco said respectfully but it was clear for those who knew him that he felt everything but respect for the professor.

“3 points from Slytherin for interrupting your professor. I wasn’t talking with you, Mr. Malfoy” Lockhart said without missing a beat

“I know, Professor. But I couldn’t let you continue to lack respect for the Lord Ancestor of the Noble House of Osnell, which I remind you is one of the Founder Houses of the Dark Faction.” Draco said, Harry smirked slightly as the Professor got paler, maybe he really ignored how powerful Mr. Alastor was in the Wizarding World. “Because by not respecting the fact that Harry is his Heir, you are disrespecting the Lord of the House.”

Lockhart remained silent for a moment, pale and a bit insulted that one of his students had lectured him. He didn’t answer to Draco, not even to take more points. But noticeably he  stopped call ing him only ‘Potter’ during the rest of the hour. 

On the last few minutes the Professor told them of his project to start a Dueling Club so that they could learn how to duel and protect themselves, which honestly had been the most interesting part of the lesson, hearing of that project.

After Defense, after having waved bye to Draco they went to Charms and after that to the library to complete their, Harry, Matt and the twins, Potions essay. It was there that Harry meet Colin a Gryffindor muggleborn who was a fan of his and wanted to get a photo with him.   
Harry accepted,  remembering Mr. Alastor lesson about never disappointing one’s fans, so he asked Erik to take their photo, Colin had been ecstatic.

All in all apart from the new rumors the day hadn’t gone all that bad.


	35. The Dueling Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go wrong during the Dueling Club meeting

The morning after Harry had not even got to the Great Hall, with the rest of his House, before being informed, by the whispers of the students around them that Colin, the muggleborn Gryffindor, _his_ fan, had been petrified. Of course the whispers seemed to accuse him of being the culprit, which he wasn’t. He would have never harmed a fan of his, Mr. Alastor had taught him as much, every entertainer and star needed to maintain their fanbase content and prolific, and harming one’s fan was the way to get the opposite of that.

He would have never harmed Colin, even if the boy had gotten irritating which he hadn’t, he had been almost endearing with how much he had been nervous to talk with him.

Honestly now Harry could see why Mr. Alastor seemed to like the idea of having fans. Though he knew that not every person would have been as respectful as Colin.

The Ravenclaws closed their ranks tighter around Harry as if to protect him, the older years posed in the most external line to protect the younger years, if the whispers would turn into hexes or jinxes.

Breakfast in the Great Hall had been a tense affair, with the whispers and the rumors and the words laced with venom that filled the air, Harry and his friends, just like the rest of their House, did their best to ignore it, talking with each other as if everything was normal.

Some of the sixth years even told them about the lesson that Professor Bins had given them, about the Four Founders of Hogwarts and the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets, which apparently was a mystic place, shrouded in mystery, somewhere in between reality and fantasy. A Chamber hidden somewhere in Hogwarts where it was told that the Monster of Slytherin slept.

_It was most curious_.

And it was better to not inform Mr. Alastor of the story at least until he was certain that there was a pinch of truth in the legend, it was best. If his… _father_ was to kill the Headmaster for continuously putting him, and other children, as one of his rules where to never actually harm children, at risk, it was better be sure that it was for something real and not just a story.

“The Chamber of Secrets is real” Draco told them as they walked all together to the room in which the Dueling Club was to be held, something interesting to do at last after almost four hours of boring lessons.

“It is? How can you be sure?” Harry asked.

“My father said that Grandfather told him that the Chamber was opened fifty years ago when he went to Hogwarts”

A bit taken aback from the information, Harry said nothing. Instead Neville asked: “And… how was it closed last time?”

Draco shrugged. “It wasn’t it did all by itself, after a _mud_ … muggleborn was killed.” Draco corrected himself as soon as he saw the glare Harry was sending him. He should have already known better, he knew that Harry didn't believe in blood purity or the likes.

Neville and the twins gasped at the revelation, attracting unwanted attention, Harry wordlessly enhanced the privacy ward Mr. Alastor had taught him, which filled the ears of those trying to listen in with wordless whispers drowned in a static undertone. And while that effect made more noticeable the fact that one was trying to not be overheard, it was more effective than a simple Muffilato.

“Myrtle” it was the only thing that Matt said in a whisper, “Poor girl. No surprise that she’s so scared… been avoiding ‘er favorite ‘aunting place since the whole Ms. Norris thin’”

“You know Moaning Myrtle?” Draco asked them appearing almost surprised.

“Yup, we do. And she finds that moniker offensive.” Harry said lightly but Draco understood the meaning hidden in his words, the ‘ _she is a friend, remember the deal’_ and so he immediately backtracked. “Don’t worry, you didn’t know. I’ll present you to her, I’m sure she will be delighted to have another friend to talk to!” he added after a moment.

Draco just nodded.

Soon after, since all had arrived, Lockhart presented the Dueling Club with his vain, showman flair, while Professor Snape stood there watching the man with a sour look on his face.

The first two to be called, after the presentation that had Professor Snape end the ‘duel’ with Lockhart in approximately two seconds with an ‘ _Expelliarmus_ ’,: were a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff. Everything went mostly well until the frustrated Hufflepuff yelled ‘ _Serpensortia_!’, a long snake, maybe even a cobra if Harry had seen it correctly, appeared hissing angrily.

Professor Snape immediately tried to disspell it but Lockhart intervened, his spell sending the snake flying in the air, irritating it even more.   
As it prepared itself to attack the poor scared Slytherin, Harry had enough, and with his friends agreement, since none wanted to see the poor boy get poisoned by an angry snake because of that idiot of their Defense ‘Professor’. Harry neared the duel ground, hissing at the snake.

§ _It’s alright, you don’t need to attack him_ §

The snake stopped its possible attack, turning towards him, around them silence had fell. § _A Speaker?_ §  
  
Harry nodded. § _Yes, now please don’t attack him, it’s not his fault, fierce one_ §

The cobra preened a bit under his compliment, slithering towards him, now calmer. § _Will you tell them to get me back home, Speaker?_ §  
  
§ _Of course_ §

And so Harry retold what the snake had said, and Professor Snape, vanished the snake, letting it return to his home.

After that the Dueling Club meeting was disbanded, whispers of ‘ _he was telling the snake to attack!_ ’ and ‘ _He is the Heir, of course. With a creature as a parent it was obvious that he would have gotten just as rotten_ ’ and others that Harry didn’t even listen to. His friends glared at the whisperers, Erik going as far as saying: "Yeah of course, we all saw how Harry instigated the snake to attack... _by making it slither towards himself!_ ", nobody listened to his outburst anyways, since he was his friend and so in their heads he was on his side. The Ravenclaw as a whole left the room offended by the stupidity of their classmates.

_And he thought that the previous rumors were irritating… what was he supposed to do now?_


	36. The Diary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry finds and old diary in the second floor bathroom.

A few day had passed since the disaster during the Dueling Club, that had even been disbanded after its disastrous debut. And while Harry was dealing well with all the spiteful whispers that followed him, his friends weren’t which was to say that Erik and Constance had already got three detentions with Mr. Flinch for having ‘muggle dealt’, aka punched in the face, some of the more venomous of the whisperers, and Matt wasn’t doing all that well either, having in the anger of a moment almost uttered the spell ‘ _Bombarda_ ’ against someone, which if Harry hadn’t stopped him could have led to him getting his wand snapped for homicide.

Neville was futilely trying to rein in his Gryffindor mates, failing almost miserably as he got shunned by most of them, that now called him a ‘ _traitor_ ’ for having picked the side of the ‘ _Dark Lord in training_ ’ that was Harry in their minds. Draco was the only one of his friends who was faring much better as he had now basically the respect of all of the Slytherin House for being friends with the ‘ _Heir_ ’ no matter how much Draco, himself, said that Harry wasn’t the Heir.

Harry, right now, was going, alone since three of his friends were in detention and the other two were in Charms for a Slytherin/Gryffindor lesson, to the second floor bathroom, hoping to be able to talk with Myrtle. To see how she was doing since they hadn’t have time to talk after the Ms. Norris thing, and since she hadn’t gone to the Ravenclaw common room for a while.

The boy moved quietly in the shadows, not heard or seen by the others, which was exactly what he wanted.

The bathroom to his surprise was empty, Myrtle wasn’t there. The writing still on the wall, the letters now colored of the reddish brown of dried blood, some of it even flaking away. To be sure that his ghostly friend wasn’t hiding, as she did in the beginning before he and Matt obtained her trust, Harry searched every stall finding all of them empty, apart from one, in which he found an old leather covered diary in one of the toilets. The diary was wet but other than that it wasn’t damaged, on the front cover impressed in the leather there were the words: ‘ _Tom Marvolo Riddle_ ’ which Harry supposed was the name of the person who owned the diary.

_He had heard, no… not heard, seen that name before_. With the quickly, almost to quickly, drying diary in his hands Harry went to the Trophies Room, he remembered to have read the name there, while he and Matt explored the castle in search of the kitchens.

In fact there it was, a medal in between Quiddich trophies, a medal for having done something important for the school… _fifty years ago_. When the Chamber had been first opened.

Harry looked down at the, now completely dry, diary in curiosity.  _Why would the diary of a student that had been in Hogwarts fifty years ago, be where he found it… now? It_ _hadn’t been_ _there before or he would have noticed._

Plus there was something about this diary that irked him and comforted him at the same time. His scar warming a bit, just like it did in Mr. Alastor presence, _did this mean that he could trust this object to not be dangerous for him? Yet he didn’t feel completely at ease in the presence of the diary…_

Harry went back to the Ravenclaw tower, and then from the common room into his dorm room that was uncharacteristically empty, with only him inside. He put the diary on his desk and opened it, all of the pages were slightly yellowish and empty. Strange… unless the previous owner didn’t have the time to write in the diary. Oh, well that was sad… he had hoped to find something about the previous opening of the Chamber in the diary.

Unless….

Harry took his raven feather quill, and wrote on the first page. ‘ _Tom Marvolo Riddle?_ ’ as if he were asking a question, as he suspected the ink disappeared as if drained in the page before reappearing in a new calligraphy.

‘ _Yes, and you are?_ ’

Harry smiled in satisfaction, he was right. This was a charmed diary, and still careful, though one of Mr. Alastor’s shadows was looking over his shoulder, ready to rip the diary apart if it had become in any way dangerous. Harry wrote in answer: ‘ _Henry Osnell_ ’. Near to his real name but not that much.

After all Mr. Alastor had always told him to never give his real name to things that asked it, _for a name had power_. What ever the diary was it couldn’t have power on him if it didn’t know his real name.

‘ _It’s a pleasure to meet you, Henry_ ’ the elegant script of Tom Riddle answered back.

‘ _likewise_ ’

He and Tom ‘chatted’ for a bit. Harry filing the lies he was telling to the diary in his mind so that he could remember them.

He had told Tom that he was a Slytherin, gaining his sympathy since the other had been one too. He had told him that he was a half-blood and an orphan, which was technically close enough to the truth. But not the truth since he wasn’t an orphan anymore, and since he wasn’t technically a human anymore in the eyes of magic from the moment he had decided to Turn.

And Tom had believed to every single one of his half-truths, forming in his ‘ _mind_ ’ an idea of who ‘ _Henry Osnell_ ’ was and how he had to treat him.

‘ _Tom… can I tell you a secret?_ ’

‘ _Of course, Henry._ ’

‘ _You wont judge me right? I’ve had… students say that I was… Dark for it._ ’ Harry wrote, creating the character of an insecure boy who just wanted to be accepted, just like he was before Mr. Alastor came into his life.

‘ _I promise_ ’ Tom wrote back.

‘ _I… I am a Parseltongue_ ’

For a moment Tom didn’t wrote anything back, then: ‘ _I am too, Henry._ ’ he wrote ‘ _I don’t think that this makes us… Dark. Why would it? It’s an ability, it makes us better then others_ ’

Tom words were comforting, perfect for the person he believed ‘ _Henry Osnell_ ’ was. Really Tom could have been a friend, but it was so painfully clear for his perfectly constructed phrases that he was only lying. And Harry…

_Well, just like his father, Harry too hated liars. Expecially when they pretended to be his friend.  
_


	37. It’s said that misery loves company, turns out darkness does too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry discovers that he isn't the only one of his friends who hides darkness inside.   
> Turns out, in fact, that they aren't as different from him as he thought.

Since the day Matt got detention for having ‘attacked’ a student over some snide comment, Matt’s anger problems in regards of those that badmouthed Harry grew worse.

Harry had never suspected that jolly, easy-to-smile Matt could get so vicious if angered, his ‘pranks’, because that was what he said they were, always tattered on the edge of being plans to outright gravely injure the subject of the ‘prank’,  Harry had hoped that the Lawrence twins would help him rein in Matt’s vengeful side, but to his surprise they were on the ‘pranks’, helping Matt to plan them out so that it effected only the one that Matt wanted to punish.

Harry was surprised to say the least, that the twins were in on those ‘pranks’ seeing how scared and distant they had got after what happened with the house elf, he would have thought that they would have more qualms in trying to hurt other people, but apparently they didn’t. Though they tried to make so the damage was contained to only the victims of the ‘pranks’. Harry pretended he didn’t notice them working to avenge him for every snide comments the other students said, but he had to step in when he noticed Matt try to sent an almost wordless tripping spell to a Gryffindor that had said a quite bad remark, the problem was that while the tripping spell was mild the act that Matt tried to do it while said Gryffindor was on the highest floor, in front of the moving staircases which meant that if the boy had fallen badly he could have even died.

So Harry stepped in, pulling Matt and the twins to the side, on the third floor, meaning to talk to them.

Murder could have tainted their souls even if unintentional, since they had meant for the boy to get hurt, and magic didn’t know the difference behind just wanting someone to be hurt and accidentally fatally hurt them and the conscious desire to kill somebody.

He didn’t want his friends to taint themselves for an error, though if they decided to kill somebody consciously he would have even help them. They were his friends after all.

“Harry, what? Why did… that guy deserved to trip down the stairs, did you hear wha’ he’d been sayin’ on you and Mr. Alastor?”

“I did. And while I agree that he did deserve it… it could have put you into trouble if he was do get to hurt” Harry said back to his friend. Matt looked at him and so did the twins.

“So? _He deserved it_ … plus they can’t send me to Azkaban I’m too young… and American. It would get the Ministry in trouble”

_Had he_ … “Wait, did you actually try to  _get him killed_ by falling down the stairs?” Harry asked incredulous. The Lawrence twins looked at Matt, shocked but not as much as Harry would have expected. _Just what had happened to them that made, in their minds, a possible homicide less horrible than killing an elf_ ?

Matt nodded. “Ay. He’s seventeen, should now better than insinuating such…  _disgusting things_ about you and Mr. Alastor. Mr. Alastor may be the Bayou Demon but he’d never stoop so low as the jerk was implying”

Okay, so maybe Harry had missed some parts of what the Gryffindor had been saying because he had heard him just call him a ‘ _future Dark Lord_ ’, he didn’t hear anything about Mr. Alastor from the boy’s mouth.

“Yes, if you had actually heard him, you wouldn’t have stopped us…” Erik hissed, his voice so low that his words were almost Parseltongue, so near to it that even Sasha stirred in his shadow.

The big, black snake, looked around from his shadow, leaving it only when he was sure that it was safe for him to do so, he smelled the air and hiss-laughed, attracting the four boys attention.   
§ _They don’t smell like Prey anymore._ § Sasha said contently § _Of course they don’t smell of Hunter like you, but they don’t seem small anymore. You found your kin, Young Speaker._ § His smoky eyes glinted with green mirth. Before Harry could ask him to explain, smiling in the lightly dangerous ways snake smiled Sasha went back to his shadow.

“What did… he say?” Constance asked.

And Harry decided to answer to them as sincerely as possible, without telling them the complete truth about what Sasha meant with ‘Hunter’ when talking about him. They weren’t ready to hear that… _yet_.

After that moment, Harry decided to help his friends to focus their ‘ _darkness_ ’ so that they didn’t end up doing what they had almost done again. It wasn’t good to leave all that rage uncontrolled, if they wanted to use it they’d first learn how to.

Harry taught them some of what Mr. Alastor had taught him, of course they couldn’t try some of the things for Hogwarts wards would have detected the ‘dark’ magic, but he helped as much as he could, not wanting his friends to get in trouble.

“Killing changes the soul” He told his friends, Draco and, surprisingly, Neville had joined them too after the first few ‘lessons’ in the forgotten classroom that had become their classroom, the door locked and spelled in such a way that only those who knew of its existence could see it. Harry was being cautious, after all what he was teaching them was on the edge of being considered a Dark Art for the British. “It cracks it, making it prone to shatter at the minimal wisp of intent to kill again.” his friends listened raptly, with even more attention that they usually dedicated to lessons. “That’s why I stopped you guys some days ago. I didn’t want that to happen to you, at least not without knowing the price.”  
  
“I already knew it.” Matt said breaking the silence that had fallen between them. “Same cultural background as your father… remember?” he added with a barely there smile .

“And even if you knew, you wanted to do it anyway for... _me_?”  
  
“Ya’re my best friend, Harry. _I’d go to Hell and back for you_ ”  
  
And if the nod that his friends gave meant something, it was that it wasn’t only Matt the only who would do that for him. And as the group of friends became closer, as they learned those bordering-on-Dark-Arts that Mr. Alastor had taught Harry, in the drawer in Harry’s desk in the Ravenclaw tower, the Diary laid, _forgotten_.


	38. Do you think Diaries can Scream?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor gets told by his Shadow that Harry is hiding something from him.  
> Turns out that the Diary is not just a Dark Artifact after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness!! But since it was raing we had a power outage and only now it's back on!

The Diary remained forgotten for a few weeks, in which there hadn’t been any attacks. It was Valentine’s Day, and Harry had left the Great Hall suddenly after having received the most embarrassing valentine ever, so embarrassing in fact that he hadn’t even been able to maintain his smile up, instead he _felt_ it fall as the poor dwarf, dressed up in the stupidest costume ever, recited the valentine with a deadpanned voice.

Which was why Harry was going to the dorm room right now, to hide away till he felt okay enough to go out in the public without thinking of what the other students could think of him.

And seriously, who would describe his hair as ‘ _red like cherry jam splotched_ _with_ _ink_ ’? His hair were red as blood with black points and _thank you very much_!

Harry’s embarrassment, though, was short lived for as soon as he entered the dorm room he heard a very familiar static, his scar warmed up in an instant, clear sign that Mr. Alastor was irritated if not angry.

“Did you have any intention of telling me of this?” asked Mr. Alastor, who was in front of Harry’s desk with the Diary in his clawed hands, his antlers were just a bit more pronounced than normal, his voice deadly calm, almost drowned out by the static.

Harry tensed, incapable of answering. Mr. Alastor had never, never been angry with him, and he… he didn’t know how to react… he…

“Or I had to know of it from my Shadows?” the man continued. “I told you how dangerous this kind of objects can be, Harry.”

“I… I… I didn’t thought… it doesn’t seem dangerous” Harry stuttered, scared. It was then that Mr. Alastor looked into his eyes, and his whole threatening demeanor vanished, the static lowering so fast that it seemed like it had stopped in a stutter.

“Harry, my dear, don’t be scared… I am not angry, I am worried.” He said, voice soft as he put the Diary on his desk to move towards him, calmly, not scary at all. “That… object could have got you hurt. This was why my Shadows told me.”

“I… I took precautions. I didn’t tell it the truth, it doesn’t even know my real name…” Harry said, his voice still a whisper as he tried to calm down, Mr. Alastor wasn’t angry at him, _he was worried, yes, worried for him. Because that’s what a parent would have been, worried for his kid for having touched something so dangerous_.

“You did well, but it is not enough to protect yourself from this kind of object, this isn’t just an Artifact it’s alive...But you not telling it your real name protected you to an extent from its influence…” Mr Alastor said, now close enough that he could hug him, though he hesitated. Not wanting to worry him.  
  
Harry hugged his… father, as if he was saying him that he wasn’t scared anymore, that he now understood why he had reacted as he had done.

Then they divided.  
  
“It’s alive? But… I can’t see anything around it…”  
  
Mr. Alastor smiled a bit. “You are not strong enough yet to see… parts of souls, you can just see full souls. This is but a part of one.” he explained. “And I think I even know to whom it belongs, it stinks of death and longing for immortality, quite the recognizable stench I have to say” the man said.

Harry looked at him curious, his eyes questioning. ‘ _Who is he then?_ ’ his expression seemed to ask.

“We have met him last year, the little pathetic dark wizard. This part of him is just younger.” he answered, and realization sparkled in Harry’s green eyes that quickly darkened in anger.

He still had a vengeance against the Dark Lord, not only for having killed his parents but for having tried to kill Mr. Alastor too.

“So it’s _him_.” and as those growled words left his mouth, Mr. Alastor's smile became slightly darker, and maybe a bit proud.

“Yes, my dear. It’s him.” he said “What do you want to do, darling?”

Harry looked at the Diary with a glare. “I want for him to die, no… to suffer and then die. But first, I have to ask him something.”

Mr. Alastor tilted his head to the side, curious as his Shadow opened the Diary with a shadowy clawed hand.

Mr. Alastor beckoned him to came closer, so that they could see the Diary answer even though the one to write would have been the Shadow.

“Ask him… Ask him if it was his fault if Myrtle died.” Harry said and so the Shadow wrote.

‘ _Did you kill Myrtle?_ ’

The ink soaked in, and it took only a moment for Tom hand-writing to come through. ‘ _What..?_ ’ then a pause ‘ _How did you guess, Henry?_ ’

Mr. Alastor looked at the Diary, then a creepily wide smile bent his lips, like he had solved a riddle that was disturbing him, and the answer that he had got was even better then he had expected.

Harry sent a confused glance to his father, before answering to the waiting Shadow. “He is the only other Parselmouth known.”  
  
The Shadow wrote: ‘ _You are the only other Parselmouth that I know of_ ’

The answer came swiftly, Harry could almost feel the smug smirk bending the Dark Lord nonexistent lips. ‘ _I should have guessed that a little smart Slytherin like you would have found the real truth even with so little clues_ ’ another little pause, if the compliment had been ‘said’ by anyone else Harry could have smiled but not from this, not from one of _his_ compliments. ‘ _So now what? You know the truth, Henry, what will you do?_ ’

“Make you pay” Harry said the Shadow wrote what he had just said.

‘ _For what? For a little weak mudblood? Why do you care for someone that has been dead for fifty years?_ ’

“Because she is my friend, and I take care of my friends.” He growled, not knowingly to him, the silvery ghost of Myrtle Warren was there, called by one of the Shadow Puppets of Mr. Alastor. The girl almost cried ghostly tears in hearing Harry’s words.

Mr. Alastor smirked, closing the Diary. At the questioning look Harry sent him, he said: “Do you think we can make a diary scream, my darling?” then as he scraped the leather cover of the diary, clawing the golden letters that said ‘Tom Marvolo Riddle’ the Diary, or to be exact the shard inside it, let out a panicked shriek in feeling somethin, pain, after so long of feeling nothing.

With his smirk growing, Mr. Alastor plunged his claws in the Diary, a blackness like slimy ink started oozing from it, the shrieking got louder. “But it is not only us that have to get our revenge, there is someone that deserves it more. Right, Myrtle?” as the man in red said this words, Harry looked back to were the silvery ghost of Myrtle was, she was nodding fast, determined. Fury glistening in her eyes, the silver of her form that started getting a tinge of bronze, no… not bronze, red, like silver glazed with blood.

Mr. Alastor laughed in that cold, sadistic way that he did when exacting his revenge as he started to pull something out of the Diary.

The wisp of black smoke, taking the form of a boy, older than Harry with Slytherin robes. He looked even less material than Myrtle, the shade of a ghost if something like this could have existed.

“You!” Myrtle said, her voice lower and angrier than Harry had ever heard sound. “It’s your fault! I’m dead because of you!” with just a movement the red ghost was on the shade, the boy tried to speak but futilely as no words left his mouth. Without his voice to try and save himself, the shade panicked, trying to escape but he couldn’t Mr. Alastor impeding him from going anywhere.

Myrtle attacked, closing her hands around the shade neck like she wanted to suffocate him, even though it was impossible to kill a ghost that way. But then, Tom Riddle wasn’t a ghost he wasn’t really dead, so it worked.  
He tried to claw at her hands but was met with nothing but air. Myrtle continued yelling at him as he suffocated, and Harry watched as one if his friends brutally murdered a fragment of the man that murdered his parents. It made him feel happy to see the monster die slowly, even happier because this was Myrtle’s revenge on her killer. She deserved this, to be able to get her revenge.

The shade chocked up a scream, and then he was gone. A splash of black slimy ink on the pavement.

Myrtle smiled at them, hugging Mr. Alastor and then him. Thanking them for having found her killer, to have helped her even if they didn’t need to, for having done for her more than anyone else in her time had.

Myrtle Warren smiled, no more crying, no more moaning for her unjust death, she smiled and then… _was gone too_.

“What… were did she… Is she…?” Harry asked confused.

“Gone? No, she is free now. And if she wants to be back she’ll be. No, Overlord has a say on her soul” Mr. Alastor said, Harry turned a bit to ask what he meant with that, but before he did, a blaze illuminated the ground making the residue of the shade evaporate.

When the blaze disappeared someone was there in front of them. It took Harry only a moment to recognize her, Myrtle. But she wasn’t a ghost in fact she almost looked alive, but not exactly as she was before. She had claws and feathers covering her wrists and neck, her eyes a reddish-brown that reminded him of Husks eyes.  
  
“Harry!” She said happily, jumping to hug him. She was material now, warm, as if she had been brought back to life. “I haven’t seen you in so long!” He looked at her confused.

Mr. Alastor snickered. “You have been gone from the mortal plane for just a few minutes, dear.”  
  
Myrtle cocked her head to the side in a distinctly bird-like manner. “Oh… right. Time goes faster down there….” she said. “Well… this is a bit embarrassing now…”  
  
“No, it isn’t! I’m so happy to see you back!” Harry said, hugging his friend again, she giggled.

“So… can I remain his friend?” She asked Mr. Alastor after she and Harry had stopped hugging.

“Of course, dear. But if you try to make a Deal with him, then I will be sure you cannot come back up again, alright?”

“Alright, alright. Oh, and a friend of yours… Angel, I think he said he was called, told me to tell you that the Hotel is boring as… _hell_ without you being there livening up the atmosphere.”

Harry looked between them more than once, then shrugged. Like he decided that he didn’t want to ask about what they were talking about.

“You have to meet the others, again. They’ll be delighted to know that you are… uh… better now.” Harry said after the two had stopped talking, Myrtle smiled happily at him.

“Let’s go, _little fawn_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, Myrtle is a raven-demoness now. About her comment, in my HC time passes quicker in Hell than on Earth. A minute on Earth is a day in Hell. She passed ten days in Hell, so for Harry only ten minutes had passed.


	39. Still a student

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems that the ghosts of his failures haunt Dumbledore.  
> And that one of them isn’t even a ghost anymore.

Of the many things Dumbledore had expected to happen after the failure of a feast that had been the Valentine feast, the table of Ravenclaw adding a seat, like a new student had arrived, wasn’t one of them.

The second of the things he hadn’t expected was to see Harry Potter’s group of friends, maybe it was more correct to call them followers not friends, Dumbledore thought with a hint of sadness, to have a new addition. Said addition was a girl that stood taller than any of the others, immediately noticeable for the feathers that where on her body and the recognizable Ravenclaw robes, the girl looked like a mix between an Avian and a Harpy, but her face, he knew her face.

But it couldn’t have been _her... she was dead… a ghost!_

An unlucky victim of Tom when he had just started his path towards complete darkness.

The girl, for she couldn’t be who he thought she was, laughed at something Harry had said, hiding her smile behind a black clawed hand.

 _Whotever and whatever she was, he couldn’t let her stay in Hogwarts_.

* * *

Myrtle took her seat near Harry, still talking to him. The other Ravenclaw looked at them curiously but none of them appeared scared or disgusted, just curious, in part the even looked okay with her presence, making her feel a bit more at ease.

While they were talking Harry also took some things for his and her plate, she almost stopped him before remembering that as a demon while she didn’t need exactly to eat regularly that she could if she wanted so, he thanked her friend as she took the plate.

“You’ll love this! Though, it isn’t as good as the one my father makes, but good enough” Harry said, as he pointed at the rice-and-seafood that he had put on her plate. “Matt and I have been searching for the kitchens for the entirety of last year and the start of this one, so that we can give the elves the right spices.”

“I know where the kitchens are” Myrtle said, as she tried the rice, okay, it was good. Better then anything she had tasted before, and she didn’t know if it was because it was the first meal she had had since her death or because it was really this good, but she didn’t really care, she was just happy to be ‘alive’ again.

Matt and Harry looked at her with almost sparkling eyes, she giggled a bit at the look. “You do? You have to tell us!” They exclaimed enthusiastically, how could two boys with such dark souls be so cute she didn’t know, but they were her friends so she didn’t find it strange. After all they had wanted to be her friends even when she was just a ghost, they decided to help her and be there for her when nobody had wanted to.

“I’ll show you the entrance, it’s better then trying describing it.” She said.

A comfortable silence fell between her and her friends, still the fact that she had friends was such a wonderful thing, a good feeling, _who would have thought that unlovable, ugly Myrtle, as Olive called her, would have had friends one day? And that on top of that could get a new chance at ‘living’ in a way_? Knowing Harry was the best thing that had happened to her in her life.

“Myrtle?”  
  


“Yes, Constance?”   
  
“Do you think that you’ll join us for the lessons? I mean… if Hogwarts gave you a seat at the table this should mean that she still considers you a student, no?”  
  
Myrtle remained in silence for a moment, reflecting. _She’d love to complete her education, now that she could, and to learn the new things that had been discovered in this fifty years… but she had to get the permission of the Headmaster probably… since she wasn’t exactly human now. And if he hadn’t done anything for her fifty years ago, why should he now… Plus she didn’t have a wand anymore…_

“I’d love to, but… I don’t think the Headmaster would let me…”  
  
A different kind of silence fell this time, it was heavy and slightly uncomfortable, then Harry broke it, his voice as clear and cold as ice. “He will, if he knows what’s best for him” he said then smiled thin and cold in a way that reminded her of the demon that had become his father. “He has a Deal with Mr. Alastor after all, and Mr. Alastor will be displeased if he hurts one of my friends.”

  
She smiled at Harry, rather darkly pleased that Dumbledore was paying his disinterest in the fullest, he had left Harry alone with evil muggles just like he had forgotten her, so she really thought he deserved the punishment of being under the controlling fist of an Overlord, especially of one as dangerous as the Radio Demon.

It was only after a moment that she realized that the rest of the Ravenclaw had heard them, and she was surprised to see them continue to chat normally with each other.

A boy from the seventh year noticed her perplexed expression. “Dumbledore left us to die by the hands of a troll, Lord Alastor saved all of us” he said “Honestly the ‘Headmaster’ does need a reality check, if he thinks to be all mighty and revered when he almost got all of us killed.”

Then a girl from the same year as the boy added: “And we are Ravenclaws, we are a family and family always protects each other, so none of us will tell to the Headmaster what is said between us.”

Myrtle smiled at the two, she really loved the new Ravenclaws, they were nothing like the one of her times and she was oh so glad that this was the case. The old Ravenclaw would never accept her, would never be this protective of each other, but this new version of the House… yeah it was much, much better.

* * *

All of her friends followed her as she went up to the Headmaster office, though they had to stop in front of the gargoyle. Myrtle had never expected that her first day as newly-back-’alive’ would have ended with her called in the Headmaster office but it was what it was.

Dumbledore was waiting for her together with Professor Flitwick. Even though she was confused and felt a bit like she was going to be reprimanded she entered the office with her head high.

“Who are you?”

Myrtle felt her feathers ruffle in anger at the question. _Surely he didn’t really forgot her face, surely he hadn’t really completely forgotten about her, hadn’t he_?

“I’m Myrtle Elizabeth Warren, third year Ravenclaw, surely you didn’t forget me, Professor Dumbledore” she answered almost gritting her sharp teeth, but with a slight smile on her lips as she saw the man pale.

  
“This is… _impossible_ …”  
  
“Why? _Because I was dead_?” She asked a dark amusement tinging her tone “You should know, Professor, _not all that is dead stays dead_.” she stifled a smile at the expression that appeared on the man face as she said those words. She had been to Hell she knew more of the man that he even wanted to be known, after all his second brother, Aurelius, was there still sulking for what he had done after having betrayed Grindelwald.

After that they continued talking for a bit, Myrtle had more than once to stifle down the desire of letting her full demonic form took over, as Dumbledore irritated her. But in the end the man had to reluctantly accept that Hogwarts wanted her to remain a student until she had concluded her years of education as she should have been able to, years before. If that little bastard of Riddle hadn’t existed, though she was in a way grateful that he existed, for if she hadn’t died fifty years ago, she wouldn’t have been able to meet her friends.

The Headmaster then said that she and Professor Flitwick had to go to Diagon Alley Saturday to get her a wand and what she needed for her studies, and he added that if they felt the need to they could bring one of the other students of Ravenclaw House with them.

Myrtle already knew who to ask.

At the end of the day, while in the Ravenclaw common room, after having asked Harry if he wanted to accompany her Saturday to get her new wand, sitting in front of the blue-flamed fireplace, with a mug of hot chocolate in her hands and talking with other students of _Her_ House, Myrtle decided that dying that day long ago had been the best thing that could have happened to her, because if it hadn’t she would have never been able to be here now.


	40. Truth always comes out in the end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lockhart thought himself safe from the curse on the DADA post.  
> Turns out he wasn’t.

The flamboyant arrogance of Gilderoy Lockhart had been grating on everyone nerves, from the students to the Professors, since the moment he had arrived. His lessons were basically useless, because seriously how knowing the man’s favorite color or perfume was going to help them fight creatures or defend themselves from other wizards? And reading extracts from his books weren’t gonna help anyone if they found themselves cornered by a banshee or a crossed kappa. Especially when from his description of the ‘monsters’ it was clear that he hadn’t seen one of them in real life. Banshees weren’t _‘beautiful women with gently floating long hair_ ’, of course they weren’t as foul looking as some hags, but they weren’t beautiful.

They were average looking, ghosts of women who decided to avoid others from meeting their own demise, or to warn them of impending end of someone they knew.

Harry had taught more to his friends, in this last weeks, while telling them what Mr. Alastor had taught him, than what Lockhart had done in his lesson during the year. 

That was to say that when the pranks started nobody was surprised to see any form of retaliation against the too vain man. The first prank had been some kind of potion slipped in his hair-conditioning potion that caused his ‘wonderful’ blond hair to change color as much as he tried to reverse it, also making it took any possible and impossible shape, as if his hair had become living snakes. 

Lockhart had almost canceled his lesson that day to avoid being looked at, but since he couldn’t he had hid his hair under an obnoxiously lilac hat.

As the day passed however the effects of the pranks became more and more difficult to hide, from his skin being covered in pink colored dots, to fur sprouting from his arms and neck making him look like a hybrid between a werewolf and a poodle. The latter had made Myrtle laugh so loudly that she had almost cawed like the raven she looked like in part, for it had reminded h er of someone she had seen ‘down below’. She had even, without being noticed, snapped a few photographs to show to Mr. Alastor.

The man had been left dumbfounded by the photo, for a few moment before snickering, commenting that all that Lockhart had missed had been another pair of arms and pink gloves to be ‘perfectly identical’, to whom Harry didn’t know.

At least the pranks had made the lessons interesting as all of them went more to see what had happened to the man that day than to listen to his ramblings.

The Ravenclaw House had even organized a multi-House study group to actually study Defense against the Dark Arts instead of whatever Lockhart was doing. In short, the man had become the laughingstock of the school, and that didn’t do any good to his already irritating demeanor.

Plus it seemed that the man had completely forgot Draco’s reprimand as he had restarted calling Harry just ‘ _Mr. Potter_ ’ instead of using his full surname. Which made Harry more than crossed with the peacock of a man that Lockhart was.

It was near the end of the term that it happened. Lockhart, with skin still dotted with bright pink dots but without any white fur in sight, was reading an extract from the latest book he had written which was slightly ‘darker’ than his usual, it was titled ‘ _Dinner with the Wendigo_ ’. At first Harry hadn’t been worried that he would have took offense of anything there written, especially with the fact that Lockhart tended to write creatures handsomer that they really were. 

Apparently it wasn’t the same for Wendigos, Harry managed to stay put for almost half of the description of the way the ‘Wendigo’ acted, which really was a commend to his patience, before shooting up and leaving the classroom in a flurry of his cloak and wisps of solidified darkness that were around him. Lockhart tried to stop him but he ignored him.

_How dared that liar to call them monsters! To describe them as if they were less than beasts, no superior intelligence just hunger. How dared he!_ Harry growled lowly in his throat hiding in  the  abandoned classroom, he and his friends had chosen as theirs, so to not hurt anyone.

_ He called them beasts! Creatures no more intelligent than an inferi, how could he! _

The darkness of the classroom darkened, thickening, oozing from the roof as if it was an actual liquid, dense and splotching the floor with fat, dull black drops of darkness. Harry was so angry he didn’t even notice the effects that his anger had on the darkness.

Sasha slithered out of his shadow, feeding on the expanding darkness so to stop it from leaving the room,  growing fast like an Occamy would filling the room with his shadowy coils.

§ _ Shh, it’s okay, Harry. The peacock doesn’t know what he is talking about. _ § Sasha hissed softly, though seeing the size he was right now his hiss was like the rumble of a distant thunder.

§ _ He called us stupid beasts, Sasha! _ § He yelled back, still too angry to see reason. 

§ _ He did. But he doesn’t know you, or your parent. He doesn’t know anything. _ § 

Harry yelled back something else about how much he hated that idiot, for continuing to disrespect his father and him, about how angry it made him every time he called him just ‘Potter’ as if Mr. Alastor didn’t deserve to be called his father.

Sasha closed a bit near him, his coils acting like a hug. The big shadow snake hissed comforting words for his little Speaker all the while promising vengeance against the man.

* * *

Sasha’s plan came in fruition just a few days later, during the feast. The peacock was drinking his beverage from the golden goblet, and from Harry’s shadow Sasha laughed.

He had brought a potion to the orange-scaled prankster that were pranking the peacock, with the potion he had left a note that he had asked Myrtle to write, thanks to the help of Harry’s parent, that had a shadow puppet that could understand the snake-tongue.

Now they just had to wait, and the peacock would start rambling all the truths even on the most embarrassing things he had done. And Sasha would be there laughing while his dear Speaker heard the man who had upset him so much embarrass himself.

Well… turns out that what he revealed was much more of what even the snake, of what anyone for that matter, would have expected. Apparently he had stolen his stories from the real heroes, and he had then obliviated them so that they could never remember. How horrible.

The Aurors were called soon after to arrest him for unauthorized use of the Obliviate curse, and for fraud. Lockhart had gone with them all the while yelling arrogant and pretentious to the Auror to leave him, for he hadn’t done nothing wrong. The world deserved to have ‘ _ beautiful heroes and those he had took the stories from didn’t deserve the title anyway _ ’.

Soon rumors started to spread and people gave the merit of the confession to the curse of the Defense post. 

The rumors of the Heir gone and when Colin was de-petrified together with Ms. Norris, the entire story had been almost completely forgotten.


	41. And another year has passed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the end of the Second Year.  
> And Myrtle doesn’t know where to go outside of Hogwarts.

After Lockhart was arrested, things went back to normal, and the last few days flew by like they were minutes.

Harry continued teaching his friends in between lesson, also discovering new things about them as the teachings progressed. Neville, for instance, was much more versed in curses that he had imagined, when he sent harmful spells on the dummy it was like a switch was turned, his eyes filled with such a deep anger and hatred that it was clear that he was seeing a hated someone over-imposed on the dummy as he sent spell after spell. Harry wanted to find that someone and give them to Neville so that the boy could exact the revenge he so clearly wanted.

Draco, instead, went… _cold_ when he practiced. His eyes as cold as the metal they resembled, his expression almost completely blank if not for a slight smirk. When Harry asked why he smirked like that, Draco answered him that the kind of magic they were practicing (that wasn’t dark enough to be picked up by Hogwarts’ wards, but still dark) made him feel powerful, he also said that maybe it could be because of his family affinity with dark magic.

The Twins were fast and cutting with their spells, not shying away from the idea of inflicting pain to their imagined enemy before ending them.

Matt was just as cruel as Harry had guessed after having seen his ‘pranks’ against those who had badmouthed him.

Myrtle, Myrtle had took dark magic as well as a fish would water from the moment she got her new wand, blackthorn with Exelsium amber as a core, a double faced wand that was just as prone with healing magic as it was with dark curses, and that was also prone to random bursts of electricity caused by the innate nature of the sap that made up the Exelsium amber.

All in all Harry’s friends were exactly his sort of people, who didn’t shy away from dark and who wanted to fight with him against even the Dark Lord if necessary.

It was at the exact end of the School Year after the exams that Harry realized that his friend, Myrtle, hadn’t a place to go outside of Hogwarts, her home was gone, and if it wasn’t it was her family that was gone. She didn’t have a place to stay during the summer… well, she knew she could go back ‘down below’ stay with her strange friends at the Hotel, but at the same time she didn’t want to stay all summer away from the world below.

It was thanks to Harry that  she found a solution to her problem, as he was asking his father if his friends could stay with them for the second week of June, so that they could continue their…  _personal lessons_ and hang out for a bit, Mr. Alastor had agreed after some moments of thought. After that Harry informed his father of Myrtle situation, and to her surprise it was the Radio Demon that proposed her to stay with them.

Myrtle had happily accepted, though a bit wary that the Overlord would try to make, in some way, a deal out of the proposition.  _He didn’t_ .

For she was his fawn, well he didn’t call Harry his fawn but that was what he meant, friend and that did mean she had his protection as well, and if that protection meant that she would be permitted to live with them during summer so it was.

Harry had been overjoyed to know that she would stay with them, especially since the Headmaster couldn’t say a thing, as for the Wizarding World Myrtle didn’t need to have a magical guardian as she was marked as a sixty-and-something years old witch, that had for… ‘ _unexpected death_ ’ reasons to still complete her education. Never Harry had been more grateful over the strangeness of the wizard’s laws, as well as their laziness in checking on everything that should had been too strange even for them.

During the train ride back to King’s Cross Harry and his friends sit in their compartment, talking and joking together. The twins joking with them on how Myrtle was gonna be Harry’s sister, they’d just have to wait.

  
Unknown by them red eyes, glaring on a screen like face looked at them from the corridor, unseen but emitting a low electric-like sound.

So that was were Alastor was sent, after the ritual he and Valentino did, to play family with a little sociopath just like him…

_Well it would have been such a pity if_ someone _were to ruin the peace_ .


	42. An Unforgettable Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Turns out Dark Magic lessons when you can actually practice dark magic, are really different from those where you cannot.

When the train arrived in the station, Harry and Myrtle barely had the time to say bye to their friends before Mr. Alastor shadow-transported them back to the manor, all the while static-hissing under his breath about a ‘ _screen-faced freak_ ’ that made his blood boil, for he really thought to be able to hide from him?

Harry didn’t know with who Mr. Alastor was angry, but what he was sure of was that he had never seen him so angry to static-hiss the… _kinds of words_ he was hissing right now.

Arrived at the manor he quickly bid them a goodbye, before going to work on the wards around the manor. Whatever he had saw had been enough to make him want to strengthen them, for unplottable was apparently not enough to stop said ‘ _screen-faced freak_ ’.

“Is he always…?” Myrtle asked after Mr. Alastor had left them alone.

Harry shook his head. “No, something must have worried him.” he answered, concerned. Mr. Alastor wasn’t easy to worry, he was basically the most powerful being ever… so if something had worried him, Harry felt like he had every reason to be concerned about it.

Noticing the expression on her friend’s face, Myrtle decided to distract him a bit, asking him to show her around the manor. She was sure that the Radio Demon could handle it, whatever it was.

Mr. Alastor returned to normal, after a few days. After having bulked up the wards with so much of his voodoo and dark magic that the wards were almost visible with the number of sigils and glyphs glowing in the air suspended by threads of pure magic, it was really a wonder to see, and also made Raven’s Nest Manor the most protected place in the British Wizarding World, or maybe even outside of England.

After that, when things returned to normal, the first week of June went about without a hitch, with Harry and Myrtle working on their homework, or reading in the library, or walking in the gardens, or even exploring the forest though this last activity was done under the careful watch of some of Mr. Alastor’s Shadows as he wanted to be sure that no ‘ _pesky TV-brainer_ ’ tried to snatch them. Whoever a TV-brainer was…

The second week arrived soon, and at the beginning of it, Harry’s friends arrived, through shadow-travel thanks to some shadow puppets Mr. Alastor send to them, not trusting the floo network to be as difficult to intercept as it was said.

The first day they passed together was mostly them hanging out, familiarizing with the manor spaces and how to arrive to their room in the guest wing of the manor. And was also the day when Neville told them that he was finally able to convince his Gran to let him have a wand that was his, and his only for his father’s wand wasn’t agreeing that much with the shift of his core, of course Neville didn’t utter a word of his… changing views on magic, just showed his Gran that the wand wasn’t working well with him. Neville’s new wand was made of black oak with Dryad sap as a core, that really reflected Neville’s connection with Earth as well as how protective he could be, and also vindictive as Dryads were well known for being ruthless when protecting their mother tree.

They had congratulated him for having got his own wand, finally.

It was the second day when the exiting parts started, soon after they worked on their homework all together, Harry guided them to the Dueling Room in the underground floor of the manor, there they could have practiced the spells Harry and Mr. Alastor taught them.

Harry’s friends soon discovered that Mr. Alastor had a really different approach with teaching than Harry, he was more demanding and stern, but also somewhat kind when correcting them. He explained them that when using truly Dark Magic, the movement of the wand didn’t really matter as much as they were taught, no, what mattered were the emotions they put behind the incantation, if you wanted a ‘hurting spell’ to work you had to first and foremost desire to hurt your objective, the same principle worked also for any other spell that caused harm, you could even control the intensity by feeling ‘more’ or ‘less’ of the emotion you wanted to use.

Basically you couldn’t use Dark Magic and be ‘cold minded’, you had to feel to use it at its best, and that was the rule that Draco took most time to actually learn. His father had always told him the opposite, but then...his father talked of the Dark Arts of the wizards, Mr. Alastor was teaching them the ‘ _Dark Arts_ ’ of those who were basically made of magic, such as himself. He didn’t ‘ _use_ ’ magic, he influenced it, letting it out as he wanted by _working with_ magic instead of forcing it to do his bidding.

Safe to say the first day of practical Dark Magic didn’t went that well, and only Harry and Myrtle actually managed to use the spells how they wanted and with the intensity they wanted it to be. Neville had managed to make it work for a little while but lost control of the intensity, though from observing Mr. Alastor had been sure that it had been more of a loss in controlling his emotions than the spell itself.

The third day was in line with the second, though it went a bit better. With Draco managing to let the spell out, his eyes shining with the power he put behind the spell, and the smirk on his face broader than usual, the Twins had managed to make it work to, but it came out too weak. After the lesson, Harry and his friends passed time hanging out in the solarium of the manor, with Sasha slithering to every one of them wanting to be pet and complimented as the vain, but surprisingly wholesome, snake that he was.

The fourth day, Mr. Alastor taught them about shadow casting and the utility of being able to use darkness and shadows in their advantage, since Harry already know a lot about it Mr. Alastor let him help them instead of try with them. The twins were the first that got the hang of it managing to surprise even Mr. Alastor when they were able to not only force the shadows around them to thicken but also to take a humanoid shape, sadly the so-created being wasn’t as receptive as Mr. Alastor’s shadow, but Mr. Alastor reassured them, saying that the only thing that shadow missed was a ‘soul’. (None of the boys got the fact that he meant an actual soul thinking he was hinting at something else). Draco managed to make his shadow move independently from him, which had been almost uncanny to see, Neville made the shadows around him grow in a physical mist of black oily smoke. Myrtle made her shadow take the shape of a snake, to use it to listen in where she couldn’t go.

All in all Mr. Alastor had been quite satisfied of their success. Glad that his Harry had found a group of friend that didn’t fear to trust darkness.

The fifth day they had been taught how to use the ‘Dark Arts’ they had worked on before with the shadow casting. Mr. Alastor taught them that if they used the spells correctly, they would be able to not only make the shadows darker but even material, he showed it by creating a shadow tentacle from his shadow and grabbing the practice dummy with it. The lesson had mixed results, not all of them managed to make the shadows completely material, apart from Harry and Neville. Draco had by far the strangest result with the shadow arm not able to grab the dummy but somehow managing to stain the enchanted wood with an oily residual of darkness.

It had been quite the interesting result as Mr. Alastor himself had never seen something alike happen.

In the sixth and sevenths days they were taught a mix of both arts, and they had also passed more than just some time hanging out together so to not ‘let to much dark’ in as Mr. Alastor put it. As with his type of Dark Arts wasn’t about using the darkness inside oneself but more about letting the darkness around oneself to enter one’s core and enhance the Dark that was already there, so their equilibrium had to be watched more closely as it didn’t have the external tellings of the wizard-type of Dark Arts.

Knowing that, that they could change without noticing, should have worried Harry’s friends but it didn’t. For they were too loyal to their friend and also already too lost in the enthralling effects that only true Darkness could have to let their rationality steer them away from it.


End file.
